


But A Shadow

by LittleLynn



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Dreams, Forbidden Love, M/M, Master!Obi-wan, Pining, Universe Alteration, glimpses into a parallel world??, padawan!Qui-gon, reverseverse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-30
Updated: 2020-07-24
Packaged: 2021-03-04 03:35:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 52,752
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24996979
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LittleLynn/pseuds/LittleLynn
Summary: “I had the strangest dream last night,” Obi-Wan said, settling himself and waiting as his padawan brought him a hot mug of tea; they didn’t often get leisurely mornings, so he was inclined to enjoy them when they did.“Oh?” Qui-Gon enquired, neatly folding his large form down onto the mat opposite Obi-Wan, setting their tea on the low table between them.“Yes, I was the padawan, and you were my master,” Obi-Wan recalled, with a wry smile, pleased when Qui-Gon chuckled.
Relationships: Qui-Gon Jinn/Obi-Wan Kenobi
Comments: 77
Kudos: 236





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to Orientalld and her endlessly inspiring patreon, and all the art therein, ranging from adorable and wholesome to smut central; probs wouldn't be writing Qui-Obi in 2020 without it haha! And to Kurtssingh who has a love of reverse verse QuiObi and listened to me twitter on with ideas! 
> 
> Thanks to Big Willy Shakes for the title, ripped form the quote 'a dream itself is but a shadow' from Hamlet. The E rating is for later chapters.
> 
> Not sure how long this one is going to be so strap in lads I guess? Oh and I still dont proofread my fanfic, I'm a flawed being, apologies to you all <3
> 
> This fic has been blessed with gorgeous adorable art from Kurtssingh, go reblog them on [tumblr](https://kurtssingh.tumblr.com/post/623532457564733440/illustration-for-littlelynns-but-a-shadow-3) and consider becoming a [patreon](https://www.patreon.com/kurtssingh/posts) because they're the besssst

“I had the strangest dream last night,” Obi-Wan said, settling himself and waiting as his padawan brought him a hot mug of tea; they didn’t often get leisurely mornings, so he was inclined to enjoy them when they did.

“Oh?” Qui-Gon enquired, neatly folding his large form down onto the mat opposite Obi-Wan, setting their tea on the low table between them. 

“Yes, I was the padawan, and you were _my_ master,” Obi-Wan recalled, with a wry smile, pleased when Qui-Gon chuckled. 

“I would’ve liked to see that. What was I like as a master?” Qui-Gon asked, and Obi-Wan smiled indulgently. 

“Much as you are now, wise, patient, brimming with the living force, and willfully disobedient,” Obi-Wan recounted, trying not to soak himself too deeply in the way Qui-Gon looked when he threw his head back and laughed, the line of his throat or the reverberating sound of his deep voice. 

“And I wonder what you would be like as my padawan,” Qui-Gon wondered aloud when he finished laughing, his too perceptive eyes studying Obi-Wan. 

“I was impatient, and far too fractious for a jedi,” Obi-Wan replied, sighing at the strange memory of his dream self, running everywhere, restless to leave that coarse sand planet, arguing with Qui-Gon. 

“What happened?” Qui-Gon asked, studying Obi-Wan’s pensive expression. 

“I don’t remember,” Obi-Wan said honestly, though the dream had felt strange, Obi-Wan had faded into wakefulness before any of the events had coalesced, though he remembered the sith; an odd thing to dream about. Most of the other details had already faded away. “But I remember you had long hair,” he added with a smile. 

“Hmm, well. I have always wanted to grow it out after my knighting,” Qui-Gon mused, toying with the end of his braid. 

“Everyone does,” Obi-Wan replied, getting caught up in the memory of how handsome his padawan had been as an older man - truly a rival for his current self, which was not easily done - how Obi-Wan remembered his dream-self longing to be gathered up in those strong arms; some things apparently never changed, dream or no.

“True enough,” Qui-Gon agreed, reaching a hand out to still Obi-Wan’s own, where it had been fiddling restlessly with the handle of his mug, eyes far off. “Are you sure you’re okay, master?”

“A little off-kilter perhaps, nothing that tea and good company won’t cure,” Obi-Wan forced a smile, attempting to shake off the last dregs of the lingering dream.

“Should I go fetch master Vos then?” Qui-Gon asked, raising an impertinent eyebrow as the corners of his mouth twitched.

“Fishing for compliments is most unbecoming a jedi,” Obi-Wan replied primly, hiding his smile behind his cup. 

“And apparently fruitless,” Qui-Gon laughed, draining his own cup and waiting patiently. “What are our plans today?”

“We are to meet with the council at noon, I believe they have a new mission for us,” Obi-Wan replied, handing over the datapad he had received the night before. 

“We only just got back from the last one not three night past,” Qui-Gon replied, surprise, rather than discontent; padawan’s usually given more time to recuperate, and keep up on their studies; though Qui-Gon had already passed all of his classes, and looked in better shape than his master.

“I just hope it’s somewhere warm this time,” Obi-Wan added, thinking to their last mission, his nose had felt near ready to fall off from the cold, and he was sure it would have, were it not for the large, strong arms of his padawan wrapped around him, warming them both with the living force, already better than Obi-Wan at that particular skill. The situation had been less than ideal to Obi-Wan for more reasons than potential frostbite. 

“I don’t know, it had its perks,” Qui-Gon noted casually, scrolling through the datapad instead of looking at Obi-Wan - probably for the best. 

“Would you like to meditate until then, or go to the salle for some practice?” Obi-Wan asked, there were no real areas Qui-Gon was lacking in anymore, were it not for his occasional disobedience and frequent clashes with the council, Obi-Wan was sure he would be a knight already. 

“Both desirous possibilities, though for very different reasons,” Qui-Gon teased, tucking his padawan braid behind his ear and forcing Obi-Wan to be hit with the memory of dream Qui-Gon doing the same to Obi-Wan’s braid. “Is your knee still hurting you.”

“It is fine,” Obi-Wan lied, though Qui-Gon looked pointedly at his left leg, distinctly not crossed like the other. 

“Lying is also most unbecoming a jedi, I believe,” Qui-Gon chided. 

“Barely a lie, it is fine - or at least, will be, very soon. So don’t fuss,” Obi-Wan replied, trying to avoid a repeat of two nights previous, fresh off mission, when Qui-Gon’s hands had been all over his leg.

“If you refuse to go to the healers then you must resign yourself to my fussing, master,” Qui-Gon said. “But I do not wish to bicker, if your knee is still causing you discomfort then I would prefer we meditate.”

“Padawan it is hardly enough to stop me from doing anything, if you wish to spar then I am quite capable,” Obi-Wan protested. 

“I know, but you gave me the choice, and I will never willingly pick an option that causes you discomfort, no matter how small,” Qui-Gon answered, taking Obi-Wan’s cup from his slack fingers and smiling as he went to tidy their things. “Besides, meditating with you is one of my favourite ways to pass the time, there is little that centers me more, few activities that make me feel more whole.” Qui-Gon finished far too sincerely for his own good, and Obi-Wan was left with a red stain to his cheeks.

“Would you like to meditate here or in the gardens?” Obi-Wan asked, clearing his throat and dusting himself off needlessly as he stood, just for something to do with his hands that wasn’t reach out desperately. 

“The gardens, if you don’t mind,” Qui-Gon answered, as he always did when on Coruscant, a desire to be in one of the few places not mired in concrete, and Obi-Wan ruthlessly suppressed his disappointment. When they were on missions, and meditated together with a little more privacy, Qui-Gon would take Obi-Wan’s hands in his own, sit closer than he otherwise would, share his space as well as his solitude. Obi-Wan should put a stop to it, not hope for it, their silence on the matter and the act of it never being done in the temple was more of an indictment than the act itself ever could be. The touches would be innocent, were it not for everything they didn’t talk about, the order and it’s codes hanging heavy above them. 

Regardless of his secret desire for touch, Obi-Wan thoroughly enjoyed the time they spent meditating together, truly at peace. He had worried, when he first took on Qui-Gon as an apprentice, that he was too young to make a good master, but he had had little option but to act, when just a year into his apprenticeship, Master Dooku had left the order suddenly, and without a new master willing to take him on, Qui-Gon Jinn - the most promising young jedi to grace their halls in many many years - would have been left untrained and masterless. The force had made it clear to Obi-Wan that that was an unacceptable outcome, and he had taken the precocious young Jinn as his padawan. 

Over a decade later, he was more convinced than ever that it had been the right choice, and that the mandates of the council did not always align with the will of the force - though he kept that second part to himself, lest he put fuel on his wayward padawan’s disobedient fire. 

The hours of their morning meditations passed all too quickly, hours going by in what felt like seconds of pure serenity, the soft chime of the alarm Obi-Wan had set informing them both that they would be needed in the council chambers soon. Qui-Gon smiled at him as he opened his eyes, a look too open and too honest for the emotions that Obi-Wan liked to pretend did not swirl between them - at least out loud. 

Neither of them felt compelled to fill the silence as they approached the council chambers, though throughout the walk Obi-Wan was reminded once again that his padawan seemed to be the most popular jedi among the younglings and his peers, nary a one of them able to walk past without a smile, wave or greeting. It left Obi-Wan with a fond feeling, and forced him to take a deep breath to dissipate the more possessive emotions welling up inside him. Unbecoming a jedi indeed.

There was not a full complement of jedi councillors in the chamber when they arrived, despite times being relatively quiet in the republic, with a number off on their own missions and attending to other duties. No matter, Obi-Wan expected this to be a relatively fast and simple meeting - all the better, the less time Qui-Gon had to spend around the council, the better. 

“Master Kenobi, Padawan Jinn,” Mace greeted as they entered, standing politely in the centre of the room, hands collapsed in the sleeves of their robes as they awaited their instruction. Stood together like this, it was unavoidable that Qui-Gon already stood a head taller than Obi-Wan, luckily the master had grown used to the hot feeling that accompanied this frequent realisation, and he was practiced at ignoring it. 

“Good afternoon Master Windu,” Qui-Gon responded on behalf of them both. 

“I have a new mission for the pair of you. It could be a...delicate matter,” Mace started, refusing to just get on with it as he often did, as the whole council often did, and which annoyed Qui-Gon no end, despite his seemingly endless patience when presented with any other group of individuals. “There was some discussion on whether this mission would be better trusted to a pair of knights, but Master Kenobi, as padawan Jinn has reportedly conducted himself in an exemplary manner on other missions involving thorny negotiations, that the council decided that with your guidance, he should be able to handle the mission.” A backhanded compliment at best, a warning thick underneath it - Mace had always had trouble swallowing the reports of Qui-Gon on mission, so used to an insolent boy, bad at keeping his mouth shut when he disagreed. 

“Who are these delicate negotiations between?” Obi-Wan asked as Qui-Gon stood serenely beside him. 

“The Trade Federation has set up a blockade against The Naboo. The planet fears an invasion will follow and has asked for our intervention, the federation claims that their blockade is lawful. You will be meeting with the Viceroy, Nute Gunray, to resolve this tension.”

Mace’s mention of Naboo had Obi-Wan’s stomach swooping, wondering, suddenly, if he had woken up that morning at all. To have dreamed of a mission to Naboo - albeit an odd one where the most bizarre of things were wrong and out of place - only to be sent out to that same planet the very next morning, was a strange coincidence. Discomforted, but not wishing to be distracted from the briefing - brief even for a _briefing_ when Mace was the one giving them - Obi-Wan internally rolled his shoulders, perhaps through the force he had unconsciously sensed the unrest in Naboo, and it had manifested in his dream, that was all.

“I presume our goal is to break the blockade?” Qui-Gon half-asked. “The Naboo is a peaceful planet, they would not be well-placed to defend themselves if an invasion was launched.”

“Assess the situation. But yes, I doubt that The Naboo is wrong, the federation may well be relying on the lengthy bureaucratic processes of the senate.”

“There would be time to have The Naboo on its knees before the first motion was even carried, no matter how clear the evidence,” Obi-Wan agreed. “And the federation is powerful, I know many in the senate would be reticent to move against them, especially for a planet already under their thrall.”

“A bold move for the Trade Federation, I would have thought them too cowardly for a move like this,” Qui-Gon said, a frown creasing his proud brow. 

“You must never underestimate an opponent, padawan,” Obi-Wan replied, before Mace could open his mouth to do the same in less friendly words. “But I agree, it is a surprising move for them.”

“Go to the blockade, meet with the Viceroy and find out what is happening, end the blockade if you can. There is too much unknown to us to be attempting to draw conclusions this early. Your ship departs at dusk.”

“Yes Master Windu,” Obi-Wan accepted, as Qui-Gon bowed slightly beside him. 

“When you return, we can discuss your trials, padawan Jinn,” Master Windu said, and Qui-Gon inclined his head respectfully. 

Something in Obi-Wan’s gut churned without cause at Mace’s words; _when you return_. Trepidation, he decided, at the prospect of no longer sharing his life with Qui-Gon, as he knew would happen soon. 

“Is there anything you would like to do before we leave, master?” Qui-Gon asked as they left the council chamber, his deep baritone pulling Obi-Wan from his queer thoughts and grounding him back firmly in the present, beside his padawan - where would he rather be, after all. 

“Do you suppose we have time to go to Dex’s’? I’ll admit to a craving, I thought we’d have more time on planet before we were sent away again.”

“I don’t think I have ever seen Dex deny you a table, master, no matter how short notice and no matter how busy he is. You will have to tell me what you did to earn that devotion one day.”

“I can’t tell everyone who asks, I must be permitted some secrets.”

“Hmm. I suppose I can understand how someone could be devoted to you,” Qui-Gon replied, bringing a red tint to Obi-Wan’s cheeks for the third time that day already. Qui-Gon, as always, continued as if nothing untoward had passed between them, however chaste. “If we make haste we should be able to catch the hoverbus downtown. If we miss it I will call in a favour and procure us a speeder.”

“You shouldn’t use up your favours for me.”

“There is no one I can think more worthy of using them for.”

“Padawan...” Obi-Wan started, tone gently warning, but he had no idea how that sentence continued, and Qui-Gon just smiled at him, taking his elbow under the guise of hurrying them both to the station. 

They caught the bus, spotting it in the station when it came into view and using a touch of the force to reach it before it pulled away, leaving Qui-Gon distractingly windswept. His hair was in need of a trim, pushing the boundaries of what was regulation for an apprentice, but after his dream and the vision of Qui-Gon with long hair, Obi-Wan found himself even more reluctant than usual. 

“Master you’re a little ruffled,” Qui-Gon said, motioning at Obi-Wan’s own hair, messy from the run. “Here, let me.” Qui-Gon reached out and ran his large fingers through Obi-Wan’s hair under the thin guise of straightening it out, when Obi-Wan could have done it himself. Obi-Wan made no protest, focusing his attention on resisting leaning into the touch. “There, now you look suitably stately.”

“We wouldn’t want to give the temple a bad name.”

“Indeed, we can’t have scruffy masters running around the city,” agreed in a serious tone, at odds with the twinkle in his eye. His hand still resting on Obi-Wan’s shoulder. 

At the next stop, more people piled onto the already busy bus, everyone squeezing together to accommodate the new passengers, and leaving Obi-Wan pressed into his tall apprentice, head all but tucked under the younger man’s chin. It was inevitable, when Qui-Gon’s arms came up around him - just to hold him steady against the jolts and turns of the bus, no need to use the force for such a trivial thing of course. 

“We should use public transport more often,” Qui-Gon murmured, Obi-Wan made no response, but secretly he liked the way Qui-Gon’s voice rumbled against him, stood this close he could feel it, as much as hear it.

Dex got them a table, slapping Obi-Wan on the back jovially and roaring with good-natured laughter over the way Qui-Gon now towered over his master. He was fed his favourite dish and through some conspiring between Qui-Gon and Dex, not permitted to part with a single credit, making him harummph unhappily, but without conviction. 

“Don’t pout master, we are doing a nice thing.”

“I am perfectly capable of paying for my own dinner,” Obi-Wan responded, relenting when he felt the smallest frisson of hurt over his training bond with Qui-Gon.

“It is a gift.”

“Jedi are not allowed to accept gifts,” Obi-Wan replied, gentling his tone, attempting to tease to bring a smile back to his padawan. 

“Ah jedi are not supposed to accept gifts for services rendered, this is a gift for nothing but my desire to give you one, and cannot be feared as a way to curry favour,” Qui-Gon rebutted, smiling again, and always too good at finding loopholes in the code, even over matters of little importance. 

“As if it were possible for me to favour you more,” Obi-Wan muttered, Qui-Gon knocking his boot against Obi-Wan’s under the table affectionately. 

Dex’s place was heaving by the time they got up to leave, brimming with people as it always was during the lunchtime run, and Qui-Gon took Obi-Wan’s hand nonchalantly, under the facade of not being separated in the crowd. Obi-Wan was relieved, when Qui-Gon ended the contact when they were free of the diner. 

He needed to speak to his apprentice of attachment, of the things that the council were clear on, inescapably so. But the words would be ash in his mouth, and denial that he was no better than his apprentice, as if the attachment didn’t go both ways. In this, he had failed his apprentice. It was easier, to let it remain unsaid, without power in the undercurrents of their relationship, washing harmlessly around their strong roots. If nothing else, his released hand had Obi-Wan trust that Qui-Gon knew it could go no further, convinced himself that he would act if one day his hand was not released. 

“Come master, let us take the scenic route home, we should have time to walk it before we need to prepare to depart.”

“You once said that no part of Coruscant was scenic, I believe when I tried to convince you to take this very walk with me.”

“Ah but I was young and fool enough not to truly appreciate the views such an outing could afford me,” Qui-Gon replied, dutifully looking out at the mass of buildings, though his force signature brushed up against Obi-Wan’s own. 

“You are still young,” Obi-Wan felt compelled to point out. 

“Something which me and my dashing master have in common,” Qui-Gon replied, heading off Obi-Wan’s thoughts before they could begin. True that he had not yet reached his fortieth year, but beside Qui-Gon and his boundless energy, he often felt more than his years. “But I have much more life experience, at the very least, than I did when I made that comment. Enough close-calls to appreciate the things that are important,” Qui-Gon finished, forcing Obi-Wan to suppress his guilt before Qui-Gon could sense it, over how many times their mission had almost cost his padawan dearly, despite Obi-Wan’s attempts to protect him. 

“And the view of Coruscant’s endless metal and concrete is what you deemed important?” Obi-Wan quipped, despite being happy to take the walk. 

“From a certain perspective,” Qui-Gon replied, and they enjoyed the remainder of their walk in the easy quiet that so often existed between them. 

Packing was a simple affair when they reached their quarters, jedi travelling notoriously light, well versed in surviving on the land - whatever land that might be - that they were ready to leave in ample time. 

When they entered the hangar, Obi-Wan noticed a ship that he recognised not from the waking world, but from his dream the night before. One that had taken himself and Qui-Gon to the Naboo, that had been destroyed. As he placed his foot on the ship, he had the strangest feeling of stepping on something that didn’t belong.

Merely another strange coincidence, surely, it was a common enough style of ship.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading, I'm aiming for at least a chapter per week, comments and kudos are always muchly loved <3


	2. Chapter 2

“Master? Master are you alright? Obi-Wan!” Strong hands shook his shoulders and Qui-Gon’s voice managed to cut through Obi-Wan’s daze, blinking into the present, Qui-Gon’s handsome face creased with concern. 

“Sorry padawan, I’m fine.”

“Clearly not,” Qui-Gon scolded, only releasing Obi-Wan’s shoulders to check him over for injuries that weren’t there, fussing as if their roles were reversed, running his hands over Obi-Wan’s body. 

“Qui-Gon stop,” Obi-Wan said, catching his padawan’s much larger hands in his own. “I am not hurt.”

“But something  _ is _ wrong,” Qui-Gon replied, no doubt getting a headful of Obi-Wan’s tumult through their bond. 

Tumult, because the ship had been destroyed, just as it had been in Obi-Wan’s dream. There had been people aboard, good people, who hadn’t been given a chance to get their shields up or escape, gunned down in a hanger they had been welcome into. And the worst part was, Obi-Wan had known it was going to happen, he had seen it before, and he hadn’t done anything. He could have prevented it, could have prevented the deaths of five people, he could have saved them, he could have - 

“Obi-Wan,” Qui-Gon said firmly, hands cupping Obi-Wan’s bristly cheeks after his grip on his padawan’s hands had gone slack, pulled into the swirling black hole of his thoughts. Qui-Gon waited to speak until he had full command of Obi-Wan’s attention, as he often did. “Tell me what is wrong, I shan’t be able to concentrate if you don’t, I will be consumed with worry and could make a mistake.”

“That is manipulation,” Obi-Wan muttered, not knocking away Qui-Gon’s hands. 

“It is also the truth,” Qui-Gon replied softly, crouching in the grass to be level with Obi-Wan. The master sighed.

“The strange dream I had the other night - the one I told you about - I saw our ship destroyed, but here I said nothing. The force tried to give me a warning, and I disregarded it like a fool, and now five people have paid for my thoughtless actions. I feel as though their blood is on my hands just as much as that of the viceroy and gunner.”

“The same dream where I was your master?” Qui-Gon asked, Obi-Wan nodded in response, unable to meet Qui-Gon’s eyes, worried for the disappointment he might see there. “The very basis of that dream was false, why should you have believed that any other element of it was truth?”

“I should have been more mindful, I could have saved their lives,” Obi-Wan shook his head in Qui-Gon’s hands, not dislodging his apprentice from his hold, a thumb stroking over his cheekbone.

“Hush, you are far too hard on yourself, what would you tell me were I trying to shoulder this kind of blame?” Qui-Gon asked, and Obi-Wan huffed, thinking, for a moment, that sometimes it was no surprise he had dreamt Qui-Gon as  _ his _ master, it was his own fault for letting the lines between them become so blurred.

“I would tell you that what matters most is that we learn from mistakes, and do not repeat them.”

“And?”

“And that dreams are a confusing realm, expecting yourself to decipher them without fault is expecting yourself to fail. Now, stop teaching  _ me _ , padawan, we still have a job to do here,” Obi-Wan grumbled, picking himself off the ground and looking at the trees around them, many toppled from the droid transports crashing through.

“I’m not sure where we are, how do we get to Theed from here?” Qui-Gon asked, looking into the distance. 

“It’s a long way, we’ll have to find the nearest settlement and procure a vehicle,” Obi-Wan grimaced, stretching out with the force to locate the nearest, getting - curiously - pushback from beneath the surface before the currents in the force led him west. “West, unless you fancy a swim, there appears to be some sort of underwater civilisation.”

“I always enjoy watching you swim, master,” Qui-Gon replied with a sly smile.

“Be serious padawan,” Obi-Wan scolded, turning away so Qui-Gon might not see the faint tint to his cheeks. “I am curious what you believe the best course of action would be.”

“As our goal is to reach the queen, and we do not know the state of relations between the Naboo and the underwater civilisation, I believe it would be best we remain on land. Especially considering we have no conduit of introduction between us and the underwater peoples.”

“Very wise, padawan, I agree,” Obi-Wan replied, pleased when Qui-Gon smiled.

“A walk then, not an insignificant one either. Plenty of time for you to tell me what else happened in this dream of yours.”

“What?”

“Perhaps we can better figure out what it might mean together, and I know you master, it will trouble you until you have cleared it from your mind.”

“I honestly don’t remember much more than I have told you. I didn’t remember that it began with a mission to Naboo until master Windu mentioned the planet, and I didn’t remember the ship until we stepped foot upon it. Mostly what I remember is you, older and with long hair,” Obi-Wan replied, mostly truthful, he remembered the sith, though he didn’t remember anything about how or why one was present. There was no sense worrying his apprentice with such apparitions anyway, not when so much of the dream had been incorrect anyway. 

“Strange, was I dashing?” Qui-Gon asked, turning a devilish smile on Obi-Wan, who caught the  _ very _ dancing on his lips and replaced it with a scowl at his apprentice. 

“Vanity - ”

“Is unbecoming a jedi, yes I know,” Qui-Gon interrupted playfully. “But you may have got a peek into my future, I’m curious to know what I might look like twenty years from now.”

“More like thirty,” Obi-Wan muttered, much of the dream faded, while the lines around Qui-Gon’s eyes were crisp as daylight, the grey in his hair, the proud bridge of his nose, the extra inches of height his apprentice still had to gain. 

“Hmm, perhaps I don’t want to know then, could be dreadful,” Qui-Gon replied, frowning. 

“More vanity,” Obi-Wan tutted. 

“Is it vanity if I am only interested in the opinion of one person, regarding my looks? I feel that is less vanity, and more inescapably human. We are jedi, not vessels empty of all natural feeling,” Qui-Gon mused, somewhere between cheeky and philosophical.

“Your penchant for loopholes in the code notwithstanding, yes Qui-Gon, you were very handsome.”

“There are some aspects of the council’s ‘code’ that I believe to be pure blind folly,” Qui-Gon said quietly, Obi-Wan halting his walk and looking up at his apprentice, knowing exactly what he was referring to, but not daring to voice it, but also knowing it was his place to guide his apprentice to the code and the light as best he could. Obi-Wan was saved from his turmoil by the cause of it, his padawan reliving Obi-Wan but returning to his cheek. “But knowing this I now  _ must _ let my hair grow after my knighting.”

They were lucky with the town they reached, able to provide fast transport to Theed, the trip only going to take them a day - much could change in a day, but it was better than Obi-Wan had expected, and Qui-Gon dutifully kept his own frustration in check, releasing the negative emotion to the force. 

They both took the opportunity to sleep on the transport, and Obi-Wan was consumed with dreams again, like looking through a cracked mirror, so many things the same, but distorted, with sweeping changes to what he knew. There was a strange creature with he and Qui-Gon that he didn’t recognise, certainly had never met, but that image swirled and became Theed, recognisable from the data he had been given before the mission, a beautiful palace, leaving with the queen. Things happened fast after that, a blur, hard for Obi-Wan to hold onto in his unconscious state; attacked in flight; landing on a harsh sand planet in the outer rim; a boy brimming with the force; a sith with a double bladed lightsaber, trained and strong; and a strange hallway, filled with curtains of red energy, that no matter how he tried, Obi-Wan could not see beyond.

Obi-Wan woke unsettled. It had been a few nights since the first dream, he had not expected it to recur, only remembered it in flashes; at the center of it all, crystal clear, was Qui-Gon, painted strong in his memory as much of the rest of the dream melted away. 

Obi-Wan meditated when he woke, attempted to work through his dream, sensing when Qui-Gon sat down opposite him, close enough that their knees touched, but remaining deep in thought. He resolved to not tell his padawan the dream had recurred - or continued. He would take heed of things that he was presented with in the waking world that he had seen in his dream, trust in the force and use them to guide him, but he would not trouble himself with the things that did not make sense. All that informing his apprentice would achieve was to worry him, at best about this murky future, at worst that his master was losing his mind. 

Briefly, Obi-Wan considered contacting the council about his dream, as some of it had been proven true, but he was just as likely to be called back to the temple for examination as anything else, and resolved to only tell them if the situation escalated, and his dreams began to endanger real lives somehow. 

They reached Theed, and escaped the blockade around Naboo with the queen, though not without a fight. Obi-Wan’s hands reached out to take over from the pilot, remembering the damaged hyperdrive suddenly, but he paused; they were being attacked, and for all Obi-Wan knew it was only the skillful route the pilot took that prevented them all from losing more than a hyperdrive. If he took over, for all he knew he could make the outcome far worse, no matter how much more skilled jedi generally had at flying. 

“We land here,” Obi-Wan said, pointing at the planet of Tatooine, gut swooping again as his mind flashed to the boy, he thought of the sand, wondered for a second if he should pick somewhere else, anywhere else, just to try and break the connection, but it would be foolish, and Tatooine was the best place within their reach. 

“The planet is controlled by the Hutts! You can’t take her royal highness there,” protested Panaka. 

“Why is Tatooine the best place, padawan?” Obi-Wan asked Qui-Gon, his arms were folded contemplatively, tapping at his clean-shaven chin with a few fingers. 

“Because it is a planet not held by the Trade Federation, due to the control of the Hutts,” Qui-Gon answered. 

“The Hutts are gangsters!” Panaka protested again. 

“But the Hutts aren’t looking for her, which gives us the advantage,” Qui-Gon replied, making Obi-Wan remember him saying the same thing in his dream. “Right, master?”

“Precisely padawan,” Obi-Wan smiled warmly, recovering himself after only the slightest pause, which his apprentice immediately noticed, following Obi-Wan out of the cockpit as he headed towards the queen. 

“Are you alright master?”

“I’m losing count of the number of times you ask me that in a single day, padawan,” Obi-Wan sighed, letting himself be stopped and tucked into a quiet corner when Qui-Gon caught his elbow. It was needless for them to be this close together, or tucked away, there was no one else in the corridor, and no one on board that would question the actions of jedi regardless. 

“I worry about you.”

“It’s me that should be worrying about you. Force knows you go running headlong into trouble often enough,” Obi-Wan said, wondering if there were three inches between them, or only two. “I don’t need you to take care of me Qui-Gon, I’m your master, I’m here to take care of you. You must focus on learning.”

“Why don’t we just agree to take care of one another, and not keep score,” Qui-Gon replied, squeezing Obi-Wan’s elbow, which he had yet to let go of. He did this, when they were away from eyes, his touch would linger. 

“We’ve been doing that for years. But it is important you learn what little more you can from me. If master Windu is to be believed, then this might be our last mission together,” Obi-Wan said, attempting to sound encouraging, but it fell flat and heavy between them. 

“I do not want to take my trials, then,” Qui-Gon said softly to the space between them, eyes downcast where they were usually so filled with confidence, looking to the grey of the ship’s floor, so sure that Obi-Wan would reject him once and for all. It was what he should do, what a good master would, his silence in this matter had been his single greatest failing. 

“You are the most promising jedi we have had in a generation. It is a joyful thing, Qui-Gon, and you will make a wonderful jedi. To keep you any longer as an apprentice would be selfish. In truth I should have pushed for your trials long ago, you’ve been ready for a while and you know it. ”

“Why didn’t you?” Qui-Gon asked and it felt forbidden, one of the things Obi-Wan had imagined a silent agreement between them never to voice. 

“I - ” Obi-Wan started, unable to finish, words clogging in his throat, the truth warring with a lie, warring with a lighthearted joke, warring with finally adhering to the code and putting a stop to this. They clawed at each other and Obi-Wan ended up saying nothing more, reaching for words that wouldn’t form.

“It’s okay, master,” Qui-Gon said. “I know you can’t say it.” Qui-Gon looked as though he was going to reach out to cup Obi-Wan’s face again, but then he dropped his arms instead, stepped back into his own space, and after a couple of seconds there was the familiar  _ sshnick _ of the corridor doors opening, a handmaiden walking through. “Clearly there is much I can still learn from you.”

Qui-Gon’s words burned him, moreso as his padawan moved yet further away, continuing down the corridor, and Obi-Wan felt, possibly for the first time, a desire to be alone emanating down the bond. Qui-Gon would never be deliberately cruel, his words and actions belaying a genuine hurt. Hurt was a dangerous emotion, and Obi-Wan was wracked with guilt, for failing him as a master, for not being as strong as Qui-Gon clearly needed him to be here.

They shared a room on the ship, too small for the number aboard to comfortably fit. Qui-Gon had suggested it, innocently, seemingly selflessly, as a way to give the many handmaidens more rooms. No one had thought anything of it, a jedi sacrificing their own comfort for that of others was commonplace. Qui-Gon retreated there now, but even behind that closed door, he didn’t shield himself from Obi-Wan; Obi-Wan saw it for the invitation it was. Qui-Gon would hide nothing from Obi-Wan, all the things Obi-Wan knew but feared to actualise, Qui-Gon did not. Obi-Wan knew, without needing to look, that the only thing Qui-Gon truly feared, was Obi-Wan’s rejection, perhaps it was why he never pushed, never voiced what he made clear in his every action. Would Obi-Wan choose him, or would he choose his life as a jedi. 

As he always did, Obi-Wan shied away from Qui-Gon’s open mind. Safe in the knowledge that Qui-gon would always forgive him, that tomorrow his apprentice would take two steps back, and pretend that what had passed between them today, that teetering on the edge of that cliff, had never happened. This was a familiar dance by now. 

Centering himself in the force, Obi-Wan headed towards Queen Amidala’s chambers. 

“Master Kenobi, welcome,” the woman - girl - painted and costumed in the ostentatious garb of Naboo’s monarch, greeted him from the small throne, and Obi-Wan knew in that second, that this was not the queen at all, that the handmaiden standing to her left was. For once instead of being overwhelmed by the wrongfooted feeling knowing things from his dream often brought, he smiled internally instead; bodyguards and decoys disguised as genteel, soft-spoke handmaidens - it was a clever ploy, and not one Obi-Wan would sully. 

“Your majesty,” Obi-Wan replied, inclining his head respectfully to the decoy on the throne. “I came to inform you that we will be landing soon. A planet called Tatooine, as you know our hyperdrive was badly damaged, and we cannot reach the relative safety of  Coruscant until it is fixed.”

“Will we be safe on Tatooine?” The decoy asked, and Obi-Wan felt he understood the heavy make up better now, to make it that much harder to detect whether a visitor was looking upon the queen, or her bodyguard. 

“The planet is not controlled by the Trade Federation, so of our options, it is the safest,” Obi-Wan replied. 

“But not  _ safe _ ,” she replied, not accusing. 

“No, we are in the outer rim. There is little that is safe, and the planet is controlled by the Hutts.”

“We thank you for your honesty, master jedi,” the decoy queen replied, and Obi-Wan was dismissed from the room, sensing, more than seeing, the decoy queen turn to the real one.  _ Padmé _ , his mind supplied. She felt important, beyond the scope of a single planet’s monarchy, but was unable to place why, and ended up leaving the chamber feeling discomforted after all. 

The ship landed a distance out from a local settlement, far enough to avoid too much attention, at least, that was what Obi-Wan hoped. The engines threw up the sand and dulled the glint of the metal in the sun. Standing just outside the ship in the beating sun, Obi-Wan quickly removed his cloak and hoped there was something more suitable onboard the ship. After a few moments, Qui-Gon came down to stand beside him, squinting into the horizon. 

“Mos Espa is some miles away, it will be a hard walk in this heat. We will have to be sensible with water,” Qui-Gon said. 

“I need you to stay with the ship,” Obi-Wan said, regretting it instantly as Qui-Gon faltered beside him, but as much as he wanted Qui-Gon with him, it was the best course. 

“This is a dangerous planet master, we should stay together in the settlement.”

“The ship is a hazard, any manner of junkers and bandits could come and attempt to strip it. Not to mention the chance that the federation tracks us here. We cannot leave the queen, or our only way back off this planet, unguarded.”

“She would not be unguarded, she has her entire guard with her onboard,” Qui-Gon argued, voice low to avoid being overheard. 

“You are the only one I trust with this task. It is what must be done, sometimes as jedi we must be still, even when we wish for action.” 

“We cannot protect each other when we are not together. We work best as a unit, Obi-Wan.”

“Sometimes as jedi we must put the needs of other’s before our own,” Obi-Wan replied, Qui-Gon took on a more formal posture, a sign, Obi-Wan had learned, that he was having to repress his true emotions, to be released to the force later. 

“Sometimes, of course. Very well, master,” Qui-Gon said, his voice was tight, Obi-Wan was not sure what he had said to cause it. 

“Qui-Gon, I would take you with me if I could. This is not about what - what transpired earlier in the day,” he felt compelled to say, it was the most voice he had ever given to it, but it did nothing to soften Qui-Gon. 

“Yes master, I only hope that one day I will grow used to you walking away from me,” Qui-Gon replied, not unkindly, and returned to the ship calmly. 

Under Tatooine’s twin suns, Obi-Wan felt cold.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ty for reading, I hope you liked it <3


	3. Chapter 3

The queen, masquerading as her own handmaiden, insisted on accompanying Obi-Wan into Mos Espa, he didn’t push against it as hard as he perhaps should have. In truth it was nice to have the company, her thoughtful conversation took Obi-Wan’s mind off of Qui-Gon’s words. 

The streets of Mos Espa were surprisingly crowded, Obi-Wan had scarcely imagined so man people would live in such a remote place, but then again, it worked in his favour, making the likelihood of him finding the part he needed that much better. Several junk traders attempted to sell him pieces they claimed were the part he needed, but upon inspection clearly were not. He also discovered that his republic credits were entirely meaningless out this far.

“Shouldn’t we find something to barter with?”  Padmé suggested after they discovered the last trader didn’t have what they needed, only after he himself had realised that they apparently had nothing to pay with. 

“Better we find the part first, if there isn’t one here, then we have a bigger problem to worry about anyway,” Obi-Wan responded, the queen didn’t need to know that he intended to use a subtle force suggestion to get what they needed. Escaping this planet alive and in time to save Naboo seemed more important than honest trading. 

“What will we do if that’s the case?” Padmé asked, Obi-Wan as surprised to find no nervousness in his face, just resolve. 

“I will contact the council, and hope that the Trade Federation does not intercept the message and discover out whereabouts.”

“Hope, that’s all you’ve got?” Padmé asked, but her voice was light and a smile played at her lips. 

“Sometimes hope is all we have, and I have found that it is enough,” Obi-Wan replied. 

“I like that,” Padmé replied, tucking a wisp of hair, fallen from her braids, behind her ear. 

Eventually, instead of pretending that they had the T14 generator Obi-Wan needed when they didn’t, one of the traders directed Obi-Wan to a toydarian named Watto, apparently he was the only one of Mos Espa to actually have what Obi-Wan needed, and the jedi was inclined to believe him, as the gentleman didn’t seem to  _ like _ Watto at all. 

“Whaddya we got here?” the toydarian asked, voice strained and rough and he buzzed over to where Obi-Wan and Padmé had entered his shop. 

“Good day,” Obi-Wan greeted with a smile, Watto’s face instantly morphed into one of suspicion and the side of his lip curled. Obi-Wan sighed internally, perhaps if he walked around with a grouchy countenance he would have better luck on this planet. “I’ve been told you may have the part I need, a T14 generator?”

“Ahh I got one. But it’s gunna be pricey, don’t get too many of them around here.”

“You don’t get much custom for it either, I would imagine,”

“Nah but when we do, valuable part uh, not going to give it away for less than it’s worth,” Watto replied, his smile was no less than slimy, and unfortunately if he knew anything about ships then Watto knew that one looking for a T14 generator couldn’t fly. 

“I’m sure we can come to some arrangement,” Obi-Wan replied, trying to give off the air of someone who had money, Watto’s sneer told him he didn’t believe him for a second. 

Obi-Wan was distracted, from whatever Watto said next, by a boy running into the room and heaving himself up onto the counter, familiar, exactly as he had been in Obi-Wan’s dream. He didn’t say anything, swinging his legs back and forth and humming with the force, until he noticed Obi-Wan staring.

“Are you alright sir?” He asked, face curled up in a frown and successful pulling Obi-Wan from his thoughts.

“Fine. Watto, why don’t we discuss the price,” Obi-Wan suggested, following a permanently scowling  toydarian into a back room, where Obi-Wan hoped to be able to use the force to extract what he needed, without needing to also use it on the boy. 

It did, of course, not go to plan, because nothing about this mission was going according to plan. His mind trick fell completely flat against the toydarian and Obi-Wan ended up heading back to the ship with Padmé, with nothing to show for it, except for the location of a part he had no way of procuring. It was late by the time they reached the ship, Padmé’s jaw flexing in a way indicative of a suppressed yawn, but when he returned Qui-Gon was still awake and watching over the ship.

“You should get some rest, padawan,” Obi-Wan said, attempting to behave as if nothing had passed between them that morning. 

“You have had a more physically trying day, master. Rest, Panaka will relieve me in a few hours anyway,” Qui-Gon replied, before looking around himself and checking that they were alone, padme having already retreated to her room. He cupped Obi-wan’s cheek, as he often did, and brushed a thumb under his eye. “ You look exhausted.”

“I am,” Obi-Wan huffed, stopping himself, for once, from leaning into the contact, pulling away instead, under the guise of moving into the ship. “If you’re sure you don’t mind, padawan, then I will take you up on the offer.” Obi-Wan offered a tight smile, before retreating to the quarters they were sharing, there was only one bed, the cabin was only built for one, and Obi-Wan pinched the bridge of his nose, eyes scrunched shut. As soon as this latest stress had passed, he would speak to his padawan. He pretended he hadn’t resolved to do that in the past as well. 

Collapsing down to sleep, on the bed that was - thankfully - large enough for two without a ridiculous press of bodies, Obi-Wan was unconscious in minutes. 

The dreams came to him again, swirling around in his mind in moments of confusion and clarity. He saw himself with the boy from Watto’s shop with other jedi gathered around an unidentifiable pyre, the boy growing up by Obi-Wan’s side, padawan braid in his hair as he took to the force like a fish to water. Emotion shaped the nature of this dream more than the images themselves, a nagging loneliness, a sadness that Obi-Wan couldn’t shake, even when he woke. 

He expected to find Qui-Gon asleep next to him in the bed, but instead found his tall padawan tucked up awkwardly in the chair, hardly built for someone of Qui-gon’s size to comfortably sit, let alone sleep in. Guilt immediately wracked Obi-Wan, knowing that it was his own fault Qui-gon had felt compelled to sleep so uncomfortably, and for the longing that he felt, not to have been alone. 

That loneliness reminded him, that Qui-Gon had not been present in this dream, a bastion of all the others, shining through in Obi-Wan’s waking memory, now stark for his absence. Perhaps the force was warning him that he would lose Qui-Gon for good, if he did not do something to repair their relationship now, to make it what it should be. But then he remembered the boy, unmistakable as his new padawan; perhaps his dream self had merely taken his trials and moved on. But even in the dreams, Obi-Wan had been able to feel his wealth of emotion for Qui-Gon, he could scarcely imagine himself leaving his side, especially if he was the one with the choice. 

Remembering his resolution to take heed of the dreams, lest they held more kernels of truth, Obi-Wan once again dedicated his morning meditation to them. By the end he decided that Qui-Gon’s absence was a warning, of what he would lose if he did not repair their relationship, and that the force was telling him that the boy was important, that he had to be trained - as if the way his force signature screamed hadn’t already told him as much. 

When he rose from his meditation, Qui-Gon was still sleeping uncomfortably in the chair, and feeling more centred, Obi-Wan reached out to rouse him, squeezing his padawan’s hand. Qui-Gon woke quickly, but smoothly, and he caught Obi-Wan’s hand before he could draw it away; the thought that Obi-Wan should not allow it was barely formed by the time Qui-Gon hastily released him, and replaced instead by a desire to hold on himself. Before yesterday, Qui-gon would never have been the one to let go, not in such a secluded moment as this. 

“You shouldn’t have slept in the chair,” Obi-Wan chided, Qui-Gon’s braid was frayed at the end, and Obi-Wan reached out to fix it, for something to do with his hands. 

“I wasn’t sure if I would be welcome,” Qui-gon replied cautiously. 

“Whyever not? We have shared beds before when necessary, there is nothing out of place about it,” Obi-Wan said, finishing the braid and letting it fall from his fingers. He wondered, for a moment, for whose benefit he was feigning this ignorance. 

“The last time we shared a bed, we woke so tangled together that you could barely look at me for three days. After yesterday, well, I feared it would be more this time.”

“Well, if you could remain on your side of the bed, padawan,” Obi-Wan attempted to joke, to lighten the air between them. 

“I only fail to do so when it is you on the other side,” Qui-Gon murmured, and Obi-Wan felt trapped in the moment, unable to say either of the polarising things that he wanted to; that this needed to stop, that this was what he wanted. 

“I’m sure I would have managed,” Obi-Wan eventually said, Qui-gon not letting him off the hook this time. 

“It is me, that struggles to manage,” Qui-Gon replied, but he also stood, and began getting ready for the day. “Do you need me to stay with the ship again today?”

“Yes, sorry padawan. I would rather have you with me, I fear you would communicate better with the junk traders than I do,” Obi-Wan frowned at himself, remembering the many untrusting looks and frosty demeanours. 

“It’s that accent of yours,” Qui-Gon said, shrugging on a poncho, more suited to the heat than his usual cloak. 

“What do you mean?”

“What you call cultured, others can find a bit posh,” Qui-Gon teased, letting his own brogue thicken and deepen, affecting Obi-Wan in more ways than he was comfortable admitting. 

“Yes, well, I fear trying to put on some kind of accent and failing would only offend them more. At least I can rest easy, knowing the ship is in good hands.”

“That is something, at least. Have you had any trouble with the locals?” Qui-Gon asked as they started making their way down a corridor of the ship, looking for food. 

“Nothing unexpected. I have no idea how I’m going to get the part we need off the trader, he is remarkably resistant to force suggestion, and we have no money to speak of.”

“I have great faith you will find a solution, master. You have never let me down before,” Qui-Gon assured, and Obi-Wan wished it were true. 

“There is also a boy, a slave belonging to the junk trader, there’s something about him, his force signature is certainly strong.”

“How strong?”

“Considering he is untrained? Remarkably.”

“Hmm, what do you plan to do?” Qui-Gon asked, tucking his braid behind one ear. 

“I have no idea,” Obi-Wan sighed. “We don’t even have enough for the part we need, let alone a slave boy. I don’t even know if he wants to leave. Padmé spoke to him for a while, she was horrified to find out slavery still exists.”

“She’s naive then. And master, I have never heard of a slave that doesn’t wish to be freed.”

“Perhaps, but from what I could gather from Padmé, his mother is Watto’s other slave.”

“Could we not take them both?”

“I don’t even know how to free the boy. Or if the council would agree to train him anyway, he is too old,” Obi-Wan sighed, scrubbing a hand over his face, his skin felt rough from the sand and heat already. He’d only been on this planet a single day and he couldn’t fathom how people managed to live here. 

“Perhaps the force will offer us a solution today.”

“Perhaps,” Obi-Wan sighed, shaking himself out of his melancholy, knowing it would help no one at all for him to be grumpy and forlorn today - although it might make the locals like him more. 

Padmé accompanied him to the town again, and Obi-Wan allowed it without much of a fuss, she had been helpful the previous day, if only as company, and he rested a little easier, having eyes on their precious cargo at all times. They returned to Watto’s junk shop, where Obi-Wan engaged in a long and arduous conversatio-cum-argument where very little was achieved. Watto was keen for a sale of a rare part people on his planet scarcely had need of, but wasn’t willing to let it go for less than it was worth - that meaning, less than it was worth  _ to Obi-Wan _ , not less than it was worth on any fair market in the world. 

“Master Kenobi, look what Anakin built,” Padmé caught his attention as he left Watto’s office, weary from going through everything they could spare on the ship and failing to find an agreement, deciding instead to come back the next day, with something new to offer - though what it would be, Obi-Wan hadn’t the foggiest. 

“These are very impressive,” Obi-Wan praised, making the boy preen as he looked over the various gadgets that the young boy had built, fixed and cobbled together, despite no formal education. 

“You should see my protocol droid, I built him from scratch. But he’s at home,” Anakin sighed, finishing up his chores for the day. 

“I would like to, but we need to get back to our ship, it’ll be getting dark soon.”

“How far out of town is your ship?” Anakin asked, casting a keen eye out the door, to the sand beginning to swirl. 

“Only a couple of miles,” Padmé answered. 

“But there’s a sandstorm coming, you won’t get back in time. You do  _ not _ want to get caught outside in one of those, they’re nasty, scratch off all your skin.”

“We don’t have much choice, but we shall move faster then,” Obi-Wan grimaced, they didn’t even have money to find accommodation in the town. He had a sudden image of him and his poor attention to meteorology being the reason Naboo’s beautiful queen had her face scratched raw and wondered who’s clever idea it was to make him a jedi master in the first place. 

“No you can’t. You can come home with me, mom won’t mind, you can’t go out there,” Anakin said firmly, chewing on his lip and looking up at Padmé. 

“That is most kind of you, Anakin, thank you,” Obi-Wan agreed. 

They waited a few moments for Anakin to get permission from Watto to leave for the day and made their way through the sandy streets. Anakin had been right, and the sand was biting at their skin before they even made it across town to his house, without his generous offer, they would have been forced to find a cave for shelter. 

Anakin’s mother, Shimi, was a kind and quiet woman, and around the table they had a conversation that Obi-Wan felt that he half remembered. Learning of their situation, Anakin offered a solution; enter him in the podrace, the winnings would be enough to buy the part. Shimi agreeing reluctantly, and offering Obi-Wan information about Watto’s weakness for gambling. 

Obi-Wan was reluctant to be a part of entering a young child into a sport as dangerous as podracing, but promised Anakin he would sleep on the decision, his knee jerk reaction to not allow such a thing warring with the fact that it was the only solution that had been offered to him. He also thought on what he had seen in his dreams, training Anakin to be a jedi, and the nature of his force signature, knowing that if his bond with the force was as strong as it seemed, Anakin would have the faculties he needed to win- except that a large part of podracing was down to chance, and a larger part still down to cheating. 

After dinner, Obi-Wan took a blood sample from Anakin to get his midichlorian count analysed, looking for harder proof than spectres in his dreams; though after the story Shimi told him of there being no father, he doubted he needed it. Of all the things Shimi was, a liar was certainly not among them. 

Obi-Wan sent Qui-Gon the sample, talking in hushed tones over their communicator for longer than necessary, for what they were discussing, eventually telling his padawan to get some rest, and reluctantly shutting off the call. 

In the small Skywalker house Obi-Wan rested, the dreams coming to him again. He saw Anakin again, in a podracer, the one he’d mentioned earlier that very day, climbing out and cheering with victory. Qui-Gon taking the boy to the council, growing frustrated when they refused to train him, Obi-Wan’s own feelings of hurt, at the way his master seemed to cast him aside so easily, the man he loved, apologising on the flight back to Naboo, as many things going unsaid between them then, as they did in the real world. 

Then the battle on Naboo, fighting alongside his master, perfectly in sync and they ducked and weaved between one another against the dathomirian sith with the double bladed lightsaber. Obi-Wan found his dream self trapped in that hallway of red beams again, Qui-Gon rushing ahead when he should’ve waited. It was different this time though, this time Obi-Wan could see through the beams, was forced to watch as the sith bashed Qui-Gon’s chin and used his momentary daze to drive his saber through Qui-Gon’s chest. 

Obi-Wan didn’t need to feel his other self’s anguish, seeing it in this dream more than enough to cause his own, feeling as if a limb had been sunder, as if this sith had reached into his chest and ripped his heart out, despair overtaking him, even though he knew this was not real. His dream-self fought, tapping into emotions a jedi shouldn’t even feel, let alone use, as Qui-Gon lay unmoving on the floor. 

Obi-Wan vanquished the sith and barely noticed, too caught up in running to Qui-Gon, cradling his body, the helplessness of knowing there was nothing he could do for him. He promised him anything as Qui-Gon brushed his fingers over his cheeks, Obi-Wan overwhelmed with all of the things they had never said, that he would now never get the chance to say, the guilt at letting Qui-Gon die not knowing exactly how much he was loved. The hollowed out feeling of loss that carved him in two when he felt the last breath leave Qui-Gon, and knowing that he would have to hide the depth of his loss from everyone. 

Obi-Wan woke from his nightmare with his heart thundering in his ears, drenched in sweat, thinking about all of the things from these dreams that had turned out to be true.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading, I hope you're still enjoying it! much love! I promise not every chapter is going to be me slightly rehashing canon :')
> 
> _Some nice hurt/comfort crack coming up next chapter, stay tuned ya beauties <3_


	4. Chapter 4

Obi-Wan was unsettled the next day, unable to shake what he had seen, and found himself pulling out his communicator before either of the suns were even up.

“Master?” Came the confused, sleep-riddled voice of his padawan, and Obi-Wan let out a breath he didn’t know he had been holding. “Is everything alright, are you in trouble?” Qui-Gon snapped to attention, groggily but dutifully, as he no doubt realised the time. 

“No. Sorry padawan, I didn’t mean to wake you,” Obi-Wan said, then immediately cringed at himself - it wasn’t as though he could claim to have dialled the wrong number. 

“Is that your way of telling me I should be up already?” Qui-Gon replied, sounding amused, despite the early wakeup call.

“No, no. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have called at all.”

“Don’t apologise, master, I like to hear your voice, especially when you are far from me,” Qui-Gon said, voice rough with sleep but soft at the same time, even through the communicator. “There must be some reason you called me.”

“It’s nothing,” Obi-Wan sighed, knowing the chances of his padawan accepting that answer were very slim. He didn’t want to tell him about what he had seen though, for fear that would make it more real, and Obi-Wan longed to move as far away from that nightmare as possible - Qui-Gon was safe, they were nowhere near Naboo, and it couldn’t touch him in the waking world, not really.

“If it was nothing, then you wouldn’t have called me before the suns were even up,” Qui-Gon said, a sound of rustling in the background. “Though if it is at least nothing I need to be moving for, I think I will treat myself to a little longer in bed.”

“I’m glad you’re getting some sleep, at least.”

“Are your dreams still troubling you?” Qui-Gon asked, and Obi-Wan pushed away the image of the red sabre protruding from the dream Qui-Gon’s back, of holding him in his arms as he died. 

“No,” Obi-Wan lied. “I just don’t like this planet, it’s too hot, I don’t see how anyone is supposed to get any sleep. And I was hoping clearing my mind with rest might provide me with some answers about the boy, but I am no clearer on what I should do than I was the day before.”

“Not to worry master, it’s not as though you live here, we will be out of this planet and back in the temperate world of space-travel in no time. As for the boy, well, have you found another solution to get us away from this planet?”

“No. But I’m not sure that justifies condoning putting a young child in a very dangerous race,” Obi-Wan replied, thinking about his dream, seeing Anakin winning the race; it felt like a sign from the force, that he should let the boy do it, that it was worth the risk. Still, Obi-Wan felt uneasy about it. 

“With his midichlorian count, I imagine he could win, even if everyone around him was cheating and he was not. He should be safe, at the very least.”

“Safe is a relative term. And you haven’t met this Sebulba, I wouldn’t put it past him to use the race just as an excuse to hurt Anakin. And just for a ship part? In the grand scheme of things it seems like a small need to risk a child’s life for. We could probably trade our ship for a more standard one that actually worked, or stripping it ourselves for parts and selling the pieces would likely get us enough local currency to bater passage off the planet and back to somewhere our republic credits mean something,” Obi-Wan thought aloud, wondering if he would still be able to keep the queen safe in a less modern ship. The force was not a huge amount of help if you were being pursued by someone in a bigger, faster ship than yours. “Although, that does nothing to help the boy.”

“Have you thought of a way to help him even if you let him race? He would be racing as your entry, but he is a slave, he wouldn’t have access to any of the winnings, and I doubt Watto would let him keep any of it, nor have any of it used as a way to buy the boy, as from what you’ve been told, he will not be in the best mood if he loses his bets - and for Anakin to win, Sebulba must lose.”

“I have thought I might be able to use his penchant for gambling against him. Convince him to take a bet with me; if I lose, he can keep our ship, if I win, we get Anakin and Shimi.”

“Clever, except that Anakin could lose, in which case we really would be stranded here until the council could extract us, but by which time the queen would be too late to help Naboo,” Qui-Gon pointed out, and Obi-Wan thought he heard the telltale rustle of him moving around in bed. 

“Well, in that case I was hoping you might be our getaway driver,” Obi-Wan muttered, scrubbing a hand over his face and doing his damndest not to think about the way his padawan must look, mussed from sleep but still speaking with Obi-Wan, never denying his master a thing. Qui-Gon laughed, a low, throaty thing, reminded him of the deep rumble of the older Qui-Gon in his dreams, how it rolled through his younger self, grounded and shook him loose all at once. He thought of all the things his dream self had never managed to say and swallowed thickly.

“You’re going to steal the part and run?” Qui-Gon laughed, and Obi-Wan felt like he could almost taste his smile. “Very unlike you master, I think you might call that behaviour uncivilised in others.”

“This entire place is uncivilised,” Obi-Wan huffed, feeling lighter when Qui-Gon laughed again, wondering if it wouldn’t be a better pursuit to abandon his lightsaber entirely and spend his days chasing that laughter. A dangerous thought, he could never deny Qui-Gon the chance to reach his full potential, he was going to be an outstanding jedi one day. Already was, and would be a knight, were it not for his clashes with the council, and if Obi-Wan had not failed him, and pushed for his trials as a good master would have.

Perhaps what he had seen in his dream was unsurprising, considering all the many times and many ways he managed to fail Qui-Gon.

“If you want me to steal the part I can,” Qui-Gon said down the line, voice teasing more than serious. “And remember, we can always come back for the boy after we have dealt with the trouble on Naboo, and with something to trade with. You don’t have to solve every problem here and now.”

“I feel like I can’t solve any of them. But you are right, padawan, as usual. Don’t go stealing any parts unless I give you the go ahead though,” Obi-Wan added as an afterthought, it was not too hard to imagine Qui-Gon attempting to do just that, to solve one of his master’s troubles.

“No unauthorised crime, understood,” Qui-Gon replied, teased, he sounded half asleep, but also as though he would stay on the line for however long Obi-Wan wanted him to, and that that had nothing to do with his place as Obi-Wan’s apprentice. 

“Go back to sleep, Qui-Gon,” Obi-Wan said gently, as if he wasn’t the only thing keeping him awake at this point.

“Your command is my wish,” Qui-Gon replied, but he didn’t hang up the communicator, even as his breathing deepened and evened out a few moments later.

With no small amount of reluctance, Obi-Wan hung up the communicator, but only after an internal debate with himself, over whether listening to Qui-Gon’s breathing was supposed to be as soothing as it was, over whether leaving the communicator on so that he could hear him was an acceptable thing for a master to do, before he ceased making excuses up for himself, and forced himself to turn it off. He wouldn’t want to make some noise, and wake Qui-Gon up again anyway. 

Days started early on Tatooine, everyone was forced to rise with the suns, near-impossible to continue sleeping in the heat that they bought with them, and Anakin and Shimi were expected at Watto’s shop shortly after dawn anway. Anakin caught him quickly in the morning, impressively dragging himself away from showing Padmé his protocol droid to ask Obi-Wan if he had thought about the podrace. 

“I believe you can win,” Obi-Wan said, the force had shown him as much, after all. “But it feels immoral to let you risk your life simply for us.” Obi-Wan held up a hand when Anakin opened his mouth to interrupt, face down turned into a frown. “I am going to attempt to use Watto’s gambling habit to get him to wager your freedom in a bet, so that you can race for your own freedom - in exchange for our ship, if we lose.” In the background, Artoo was arguing in sassy beeps and whirs with the protocol droid, and Obi-Wan decided that whatever wire was loose in that astrodroid should stay that way.

“What about my mother?” Anakin asked, chewing on the inside his cheek, treading somewhere between nervous and excited. 

“I will try to get Watto to include her in the wager, but I fear that might be too steep a bet, even for him,” Obi-Wan told him honestly.

“When I first saw your laser sword, I thought maybe you’ve come to free us all,” Anakin said, picking at a thread on his shirt.

Obi-Wan faltered, knowing that the answer was no, but wondering how the jedi could call themselves the light, and leave them all here. It wasn’t that he didn’t know why, he understood the politicking, was better at it than most jedi, he knew that there was - somehow - more to it than right or wrong, a tightrope between peace and war that had to be walked. But for however much he understood it, it still turned his stomach when he was forced to tell Anakin that no, he was not here to free slaves. 

“Where is your mother, I would like to speak with her?” Obi-Wan asked, moving the subject away, as Anakin stared out the window, towards the sound of his friends playing ball.

“She’s outside,” Anakin told him, Obi-Wan thanked him and went outside. 

He informed Shimi of his plan, that he would try to free them both, the gentle woman shook her head. 

“He will never wager us both. But Ani, he’ll be safe with you?”

“I will take him to the jedi temple, I believe with the right training, he could be a formidable jedi,” Obi-Wan replied. “The life of a jedi is not a safe one, but I will keep him as safe as possible, and the loss of a youngling is nearly unheard of.” Shimi took a fortifying breath and nodded her head in a movement that was shaky but sure.

“I want him to be free of this place. He is meant for more.”

“You all are,” Obi-Wan said, regret filling up his words. Shimi squeezed his arm, and went back inside, calling Anakin that it was time to leave. 

Obi-Wan was successful, in his dealings with Watto, but only to the extent Shimi warmed him he would, and Obi-Wan had to use a touch of the force, to ensure that the chance cube landed the way he needed it to, to free the boy. Anakin was excited when he told him, the thought of freedom coalescing in front of him, almost tangible enough to touch. Padmé was less so.

“We cannot have our only means of escaping this planet ride on one boy,” she argued, Obi-Wan reached out a hand and squeezed her shoulder reassuringly. 

“He will win. And he will be safe,” Obi-Wan reassured, successfully soothing her, for a moment at least. 

“You plan to take him with us, when we leave?”

“Yes, his force signature is remarkable, he should be trained as a jedi.”

“Jedi are not allowed attachments, of any kind. You’re usually taken to the temple very young, is that right?” Padmé asked, no doubt knowledgeable from her position on Naboo, one of the many planets jedi scouted for force-sensitive infants. 

“Yes, he is older than the council will like, but he is close enough with the force that he will overcome any lacking in his training it causes,” Obi-Wan replied, pushing away the way his stomach turned at her words. Attachments were forbidden, completely, indisputably. Qui-Gon could argue the council’s interpretations of the code all he wanted, but the rules were still set. 

“That isn’t what I meant. He knows his mother, you can’t treat him like he doesn’t. And he’ll remember her, when you take him away; don’t make him think he has to forget,” Padmé said, crossing her arms over her chest. 

“You’re very wise, for a handmaiden,” Obi-Wan replied quietly, Padmé’s eyes flicking up to his quickly. 

“There is no reason why a handmaiden should be any less wise than anyone else,” she responded, something unsaid passing between them, an acknowledgement, a promise of secrecy. 

“I quite agree,” Obi-Wan said with a small smile. 

Time seemed to slip through his fingers after that, a last minute race to finish the final things on the podracer - one that Anakin hadn’t even been sure would  _ fly _ before he offered up its services. Obi-Wan had the feeling that the boy would be a handful at the temple - his own handful, if his dreams were to be trusted. He paused whenever he thought of them, he needed to fix his relationship with his padawan, and soon, lest he lose him. There was no sith to take him away as thoroughly as his dream forced him to see - and Obi-Wan thanked all the stars for that - but its message was clear anyway; Obi-Wan would lose him entirely, if he was not careful, and continued with his puppy dog-like longing. 

Before Obi-Wan was entirely ready for it, he found himself at the podrace, Anakin wearing a helmet that barely fit him, and taking advice from Obi-Wan that he barely understood; too trust his feelings as much as his eyes, to let that thing he’d never been able to explain guide him. 

It started poorly, with Obi-Wan wondering if he had misread his dreams again, as Anakin’s pod failed to even start - sabotage Obi-Wan had no doubt, he had checked the thing over himself  _ three times _ . But Anakin fixed the problem quickly, and shot off in hot pursuit of the competition. Before long the race was reduced to just himself and Sebulba, as Obi-Wan had feared it would be, and the relief he, Shimi and Amidala felt was palpable, as Sebulba went crashing into the sand.

The celebration between Ani and his friends was ecstatic, his freedom giving them all hope that one day the same might be true for them, that some mysterious stranger might arrive and help them break free of their bindings. Watto attempted to renege on the bet, but one swift mention of the Hutts had him back down. A quick call to the ship, and Panaka dispatched some of the guard to collect the part, so that the ship would be ready to fly by the time they returned.

“I’m going to come back and free you, Kitster,” Obi-Wan heard Anakin promise, his friend wrapped around him in a tight hug, elated that his friend was free, bittersweet that he was not, and that he was losing Ani. “I’m going to come back and free you all,” Anakin promised, pulling away from Kitster and speaking to all his friends. 

Obi-Wan knew that he wouldn’t, couldn’t. That the boy had much to learn about how the jedi lived, and how tightly held they were by the rules and policies of the republic. If Anakin returned her a full grown jedi knight; he could free most of the slaves, but he would start a war between the republic and the Hutts. Obi-Wan thought that he would be happy to fight it, and knew that Qui-Gon would too. But it wouldn’t ever be. 

He said nothing, and waited patiently for Anakin to finish farewelling his friends, letting him have as long as he needed, and longer still with his mother. Padmé’s words ringing loud in his ears, making him understand the need to not rush Anakin, that he needed as much closure as he could possibly get on that relationship if he could ever hope to achieve serenity. The council would frown, but he had collected a blanket from Shimi, Anakin would need it in space, only having known a planet with dual suns, and something from home would help him, at first, even if it might cause problems later. Focus on the here and now.

As they headed back to the ship, Anakin being coaxed into speaking after falling uncharacteristically quiet by the easy words of Padmé, Obi-Wan was hit by a darkness in the force like he had never seen before. Looking behind him as if there should be a huge black cloud rolling towards them - as if such a thing happened on Tatooine. The sand around him - the same as the sand everywhere here - slammed him with a memory from his dream. The sith in the sand, fighting with Qui-Gon as their ship hurried to take off.

“Run! Run to the ship, go!” Obi-Wan called, pleased when Anakin, Padmé went off like a shot, without question, Artoo whirring out a scream and tearing through the sand with him. He ran behind and noticed Padmé trying to pull Anakin along, slowing herself down for him, despite the fact it was almost certainly her the sith was after. 

_ The sith _ . Obi-Wan couldn’t pause, couldn’t think about what that could mean, couldn’t berate himself for not reporting his dreams to the council when first they appeared. There was not time. 

“Let go of him Padmé get to the ship, hurry. I will protect him, protect yourself, Tell padawan Jinn to start taking off!” Obi-Wan ordered, Padmé only hesitating for a moment before dropping Anakin’s hand and running fast, surprisingly fleet of foot, even in the sand, and pulling away from the boy on much shorter legs, the black speeder behind them gaining fast. Obi-Wan breathed out a sigh of relief as he saw her hurtle into the ship in the distance, but it only lasted a moment before he shoved Anakin out of the way and twisted, lighting his saber to catch the clashing read coming down on him, the whirling black robe, only one blade, for now. 

“Run Anakin,” Obi-Wan shouted as he was drawn into a duel, not letting the sith move past him to the ship, as he steadily backed himself up towards it. He felt relief at hearing the ship reading for take off behind him, the thrum of the engines, but it was another short lived relief as he heard another noise behind him. 

“Master!” Qui-Gon called, his footsteps slapping against the sand as he raced to Obi-Wan’s side. 

“No!” Obi-Wan called, Qui-Gon could be nowhere near this sith, nowhere, no  _ ever _ . His panic made him sloppy, distracted by his padawan beside him in a way he had never been before; they usually fought like a dance, but Obi-Wan was off kilter, leaving himself open to the sith’s slashes as he worried more about protecting his padawan than himself. It left Qui-Gon lurch to block a hit coming down on his carelessly open left side, and the sith turned, hands fast with the force as he rammed the butt of his saber into Qui-Gon’s sternum, hard enough to wind him, leave Qui-Gon tripping to the floor. Attachments were forbidden. 

All Obi-Wan could see was the older Qui-Gon, ran through in that same place, as he would have been now, if the sith had the double bladed saber from his dreams, and he was overcome by emotion, sent the sith skittering back, caught off guard by the gutetral scream coming from the serene jedi. 

“You will not touch him,” Obi-Wan shouted, his attacked redoubled, carried by an element of the force he had never been allowed - never dared - to touch before. It surprised the sith enough that Obi-Wan caught him in the leg, the smell of cauterised flesh filling the air, and the sith started retreating to his speeder. 

Obi-Wan could catch him, knew that he should, apprehend him and bring him to the council. But he switched off his blade and hauled Qui-Gon from the sand, helped him stagger towards the ship, throwing them both aboard. The ship took off, and the speeder raced off into the distance. 

“I’m fine, master, it’s only a bruise,” Qui-Gon reassured, but he was winded still from the force of the blow.

Obi-Wan ripped open his shirt and paled, falling back at the angry red mark in the centre of Qui-Gon’s chest, a thin mockery of his dream. A warning of what would happen next time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reaaadddinnng <3 i still have no idea how long this is gunna be, and i suck at making guesses, but maybe around 30k/ 10 chappies ish?? Don't hold me to it tho


	5. Chapter 5

Obi-Wan was glad, not for the first time, that he had let Padmé come with him to Mos Espa, as her leading Anakin away somewhere else on the ship stopped him from needing to think of the boy for a moment, when he was unable to think beyond the bruise on Qui-Gon’s chest.

Over and over in his head his dream played, the vision of the red saber blade protruding from Qui-Gon’s back, falling to his knees, collapsing limp to the side. From a wound to that very same spot. 

“Master? Obi-Wan, what’s wrong?” Qui-Gon’s voice only broke through the buzzing in Obi-Wan’s ears when he reached up and took Obi-Wan’s hand’s, pressed against Qui-Gon’s chest, around that spot, not touching the reddened patch of skin, already turning dark with a bruise. 

“You’re hurt,” Obi-Wan found his voice miraculously, though it was low and detached, sounded strange even to himself. 

“I’ve had far worse,” Qui-Gon pointed out,  _ you’ll have far worse again _ , Obi-Wan thought, behind his eyes he saw the older version of his apprentice collapse to his knees over and over, the smell of cauterised flesh burning his nose.

“Don’t say that,” Obi-Wan shook his head. 

“I really am fine, though. It’s a little tender, and it aches, but it is fine master,” Qui-Gon promised, but his words were pointless, as Obi-Wan now believed for sure that his dreams were strange premonitions, every piece of them beginning to unravel in front of him, and if he did not start doing something to stop it, then he was no better than the sith. But that would have to wait until they reached  Coruscant, and he could speak to the council directly. A blessing, perhaps, as he found himself unable to focus on anything but the bruise to his apprentice’s sternum. 

“I have some bacta gel, still, in our room,” Obi-Wan said, not moving from his knees despite his words, despite the fact that Qui-Gon was no doubt uncomfortable on the cold metal floor. 

“I don’t need it, Obi-Wan.”

“Please, don’t fight me, padawan. I just need you to be okay,” Obi-Wan managed, glad when Qui-Gon didn’t insist again that he was already fine. His perceptive blue eyes studying Obi-Wan and finding something there; he always seemed to find something there. 

"Thank you," Qui-Gon said, climbing to his feet and offering Obi-Wan his hand, to help him rise from his knees, as if Obi-Wan was the one had been hurt, and needed comfort. It made him feel like he was failing all over again, just like he felt in his dreams, when he failed to reach his master in time.

Obi-Wan led them back into his room, relieved, for once, though he knew he shouldn't be, when Qui-Gon didn't drop his hand after helping him to his feet. Qui-Gon's hands were large, grown with the rest of him, and the engulfed Obi-Wan's own with a warm, steadfast pressure; it helped.

"Sit," Obi-Wan instructed, and Qui-Gon perched on the side of the bed as Obi-Wan rummaged in his things, glad that he had had the small tube on his person. There had been too many missions in the past, looking at deep gashes on Qui-Gon's head, nicks to his neck, cuts to his stomach, when he has wished he had the stuff, that he now rarely forgot it. He had also wished for a less reckless padawan, but in truth, the thought of Qui-Gon changing into someone he wasn't, just to make Obi-Wan feel a little better, turned his stomach.

He found the tube and returned to the bed, not missing the way Qui-Gon bracketed him his knees, as if on instinct, inviting Obi-Wan into his space. Without being asked, Qui-Gon stripped his shirts off, despite the fact that Obi-Wan had access to the forming bruise without him doing so, his eyes tried not to track the line of his strong arms, nor the well defined abdominals of his stomach, nor the soft brown of his nipples - they were not things a jedi master should notice in anyone, least of all his own padawan.

"Unnecessary," Obi-Wan muttered, if only to answer the way Qui-Gon was grinning at him. He knew what his padawan was doing, and it had nothing to do with their normal dance; this was Qui-Gon attempting to chase off whatever cloud had fallen over his master, and doing it with levity and cheek to the best of his ability, despite the heavy thing between them.

"I wouldn't want to get gel on my robes, it's the damnedest thing to get out," Qui-Gon replied, leaning back a little to give Obi-Wan better access, and likely because he well knew how it made his chest flex to do so.

"You might get cold," Obi-Wan pointed out, space a welcome - if sudden and brutal - change from Tatooine's twin suns.

"A welcome relief, considering where we just spend the last few days," Qui-Gon replied, and Obi-Wan decided not to engage, and to do what he was here to do.

The gel was cold when he spread it on his fingers, and he tried to warm it a little before he pressed it to Qui-Gon's chest, but his padawan still flinched, albeit only slightly. Obi-Wan ignored the way the cold sensation made his nipples peak.

"I'm sorry. I know it's cold. I'm sorry you got lumbered with one of the masters in the temple least proficient in force healing," Obi-Wan sighed, riddled with a guilt that was difficult to articulate, feeling as though only half of it was his own, the other half belonging to that other-self, that dream-self, who had failed to run the length of the hallway fast enough.

"I don't consider myself 'lumbered'," Qui-Gon murmured in response, his voice dropping low as it always did when they were like this, in each other's space, inviting Obi-Wan even closer with the cadence of his voice. Obi-Wan had meant to put a stop to this, and he knew that now was likely to good opportunity to do so, but he knew that he wouldn't be able to. Not in this moment, with so much worry coursing through him, with Qui-Gon already hurt.

"How you've excelled at the skill when I can scarcely do it is beyond me," Obi-Wan replied, applying more of the gel than he needed, satisfied only when he was sure the mark would vanish in a scant few hours. He didn't want to have to look at it, every time he did, he saw a red saber buried in Qui-Gon's chest.

"You sell yourself short. I remember Corellia," Qui-Gon said, and Obi-Wan paused his actions for a moment, before continuing to return the cap to the tube and place it back with his few things.

"I didn't know that you did," Obi-Wan said, cautiously.

"I wasn't sure how to bring it up, and it is hazy at best," Qui-Gon admitted, and Obi-Wan felt a small amount of relief; perhaps Qui-Gon didn't remember the things about Corellia that he did, perhaps he didn't remember Obi-Wan's pleas into the darkness, and a desperation that belonged no where on a jedi master.

"You were hurt," Obi-Wan replied. They had been ludicrously outnumbered, a local arms dealer having not appreciated jedi intervention, and no matter how fast jedi were, if there were enough blasters being aimed at them, eventually one would find it's mark. "It's no small surprise that it is hazy."

"I remember you though, only in snatches, but I remember you carrying me to those caves, you were grumbling about how overgrown I was" Qui-Gon said, Obi-Wan remembered it too, all the more clearly; bitching at Qui-Gon for having grown so tall, to distract him from the fact that Qui-Gon wasn't saying anything at all, a deep wound from a old fashioned blaster in his side - the kind of blaster that ripped and tore and cauterised nothing, leaving its victims bleeding and shredded.

"You were difficult to carry," Obi-Wan replied, as calmly as he could manage. Not for weight, of course, the force was amply able to help him with the weight, but the logistics of carrying someone half a foot taller than you were never simple.

"Yes well, you managed, you got me to that cave, and I should have died there. My wounds were grave. I remember the taste of blood in my mouth. But I didn't die there."

"No, you didn't," Obi-Wan agreed, hoping that that might be the end of it, but he should know better, when it came to his padawan, his padawan who had never made anything easy.

"That was no small feat of force healing," Qui-Gon said quietly, and Obi-Wan felt like he had been caught doing something he shouldn't have, standing a few feet away from the bed. "I have always wondered how you did it." Qui-Gon let the words hang in the air between them, not demanding an answer, he never demanded anything, but asking, just asking; as always, Obi-Wan was free to evade.

"I couldn't let you die. It is my duty as your master to keep you safe. I kept you safe," Obi-Wan replied, saying nothing of any meaning. Qui-Gon reached out, fingers catching on Obi-Wan's tabard and pulling him close again.

"You don't have to tell me, it's okay," Qui-Gon said, perceiving Obi-Wan's feet rooting him to the middle of the room momentarily as withdrawal, perhaps it was that, which compelled Obi-Wan to speak.

"I have never managed much beyond the basics when trying to heal from a place of serenity. On Corellia I reached with desperation and no small amount of fear," Obi-Wan said, as if he was confessing something, he knew Qui-Gon - already frowned on and called grey by the council, despite Obi-Wan's best efforts - would never judge him for it, and yet he expected to find judgement anyway.

"I did the same, on Cato," Qui-Gon replied, quietly, and Obi-Wan felt a lump in his throat grow.

He hadn't told the council about his sudden affinity with the living force in that moment, had let them believe that he was just prepared, that he hadn't lost his bacta. The first in some ways, of many deceptions.

Corellia might not have been where it started for either of them, but it was when Obi-Wan had admitted it to himself, in the quiet gloom of that cave. And it was at Corellia, that they started the dance between them, one that Obi-Wan never seemed to know the steps to as well as his padawan.

If Obi-Wan was being honest with himself, Corellia was where he had stopped being a good master to Qui-Gon, and started being something else completely. Something that the council and code would agreed belonged nowhere in their order.

Obi-Wan did not like thinking about Corellia.

On Cato Obi-Wan had been captured by smugglers, of all things, and he had always wondered how Qui-Gon had managed to defeat so many foes to reach him.

Obi-Wan often thought about Cato.

"We shouldn't - " he started, because it was true, for them both to admit that even like this, with nothing solid or voice between them, they had already reached out for more from the force, was damming.

"It didn't change anything for me. And I don't think it did for you either. You are still nothing but light, master, and I was not swept up in some kind of siren call, that the council likes to warn us about. No different from stories of a boogeyman, to try and get people to behave the way they want," Qui-Gon said, one hand was on Obi-Wan's hip, thumb rubbing circles into the fabric.

"Qui-Gon," Obi-Wan chided. "Your disdain for the council is well known."

"And not shared, I know," he replied, standing up, which left him deep in Obi-Wan's space. "Would you like to speak about whatever it was that happened to you, in that fight today?"

"What do you mean?" Obi-Wan asked, defensive and stepping out of Qui-Gon's space.

"You felt off kilter, in the force and in your movements. Normally we make such a good team, but I could not predict your movements, you felt all over the place," Qui-Gon told him, concern thick in his words, concern for Obi-Wan, when he should only be concerned for himself. Though why wouldn't he be concerned for Obi-Wan, when his sloppiness had landed him with a bright bruise on his chest; an injury that Obi-Wan knew could be so much worse.

"I am sorry, padawan. I believe the man we fought was a sith. It made me worried for you, more so than I should have been, so much so that my worry was what managed to get you hurt."

"A sith?" Qui-Gon raised an eyebrow, letting Obi-Wan have his space - a fact that Obi-Wan did not know if he was grateful for or not.

"I know it seemed impossible, but you must have felt it too."

"I did, it is just strange. The sith were believed to be extinct, and then you dream about one, and not too long after, one appears right in front of us," Qui-Gon was frowning, tapping a finger against his clean shaven chin. Obi-Wan remembered what he had looked like with a beard from his dreams, and cursed the strict guidelines governing the appearance of padawans. "Considering what happened with the ship also, it is a concern."

"I plan to inform the council," Obi-Wan said, and Qui-Gon nodded his agreement, despite his feelings towards them.

"Have you had any more?" Qui-Gon asked.

"No," the lie fell off his tongue before he had given it much thought. He didn't want Qui-Gon to know what he had seen, it made no sense to burden his padawan with the knowledge. Besides, there was no sense in doing so, as Obi-Wan was not going to let what he had seen become reality.

The flight back to Coruscant was thankfully uneventful, at least as far as mysterious foes and ship maintenance was concerned. The bruise on Qui-Gon's chest disappeared quickly, and Qui-Gon bonded with Anakin quickly - fast enough to make Obi-Wan clamp down on the jealousy that attempted to burn at him even though he knew it was absurd, to be jealous of a child, and one that desperately needed comfort at that.

Between Padmé and Qui-Gon, Obi-Wan could feel Anakin's moods lifting, anxiety and loss taking the first small steps towards changing to hope and discovery. He was surprised given the attention of both Qui-Gon - who was far better with children that he was - and Padmé, to often find Anakin at his side, asking how things worked and seeming to seek out his company. Obi-Wan was glad, that they had at least set one slave free.

"What will we do if the council won't train him?" Qui-Gon asked late one evening aboard, when Anakin had already retired.

"I will insist," Obi-Wan replied.

"They could still deny you. It is not like we can send him home, and the AgriCorps might be a better life than that of a slave on Tatooine, but..."

"But it is not what I promised him, or his mother," Obi-Wan sighed. In truth, his dreams had blinded him to the possibility that the council would refuse Anakin, but the more time he spent with him, the more he realised that had been a mistake. He was too old, but he was also old beyond his years, aged by the circumstances of his life, marked with relationships he would never forget, and wrongs he would struggle to forgive. "I don't know."

"We will worry about it if it happens," Qui-Gon said, reaching a large hand squeezing Obi-Wan's shoulder comfortingly, moving to the back of his neck and toying with the hair there.

"He would be welcome on Naboo," Padmé, who neither of them had noticed enter - distracted, too distracted for jedi - spoke, and Qui-Gon's hand dropped from Obi-Wan's neck. "We would make sure he was happy and had a good life."

"Can a handmaiden give such dispensation?" Qui-Gon asked, not having worked out what Obi-Wan had, about this particular handmaiden.

"I have spoken with the queen and she has agreed to indulge my soft heart."

"Very well, you see master solutions present themselves."

When they landed at Coruscant, they were greeted by a wave of unnecessary dignitaries, Anakin was reluctant to leave his side, but went where he was told, bolstered by Padmé's presence in the group he was directed with. It was not long, before Obi-Wan and his apprentice were standing before the council, giving a report on their mission so far.

They were not happy to hear about the boy, regardless of his affinity with the force, but even with Qui-Gon rankling beside him, Obi-Wan was deft at getting them to agree to at least meet with him and let him take the test. Baby steps, were often the best approach, with the council.

"Another matter you wish to discuss, there is," Yoda intuited, watching Obi-Wan in a way that used to unnerve him.

"Yes, padawan, could you go and ensure Anakin is ready to take the test, and bring him here please."

"Of course, master," Qui-Gon said after a slight but detectable pause, Obi-Wan knowing that he hadn't missed the dismissal, Obi-Wan's desire for him not to hear what he was going to say next. He would be upset with Obi-Wan, but he would have to forgive him, he always did. When he left the chambers, Obi-Wan spoke again.

"Since leaving here from Naboo, I have had some...premonitions," Obi-Wan said, deciding that it was slightly less likely to land him with the healers than stating 'my dreams are coming true'.

"Not uncommon, feelings of the future are."

"These are not simple feelings. They are vivid scenarios that have since come true. I saw our ship being destroyed when we attempted to meet with the viceroy, I saw us having to flee Naboo and land on Tatooine. I saw the boy, and I saw the sith"

"We cannot be sure it is a sith yet," Windu replied, but it wasn't as dismissive as it might have been.

"Regardless of what he was," Obi-Wan said, choosing his battle. "I saw him attacking us on Tatooine before it happened. And in light of the other things I saw, I think we must take this seriously."

"Thank you for telling us, master Kenobi, we will think on what you have said and decide how to proceed. Have you seen anything that hasn't yet come to pass?" Mundi asked, hands steepled under his chin.

"Yes," Obi-Wan said, and swallowed thickly, forcing himself to remain serene as he spoke, telling the council of the huge battle he had foreseen, before steadying himself for his next words. "I saw the sith again, fighting with me and padawan Jinn on Naboo."

"Where?"

"I am not sure precisely."

"Who was the victor?"

"I did not see," Obi-Wan lied, both pleased and disappointing at himself, for how easily he did so. "Because of this, I would like to request a more experienced jedi accompany me on this mission, instead of my padawan. If this enemy is a sith, then a padawan should not face him."

"I agree," Windu said, after a few moments of silence, leaning back in his chair. "You will take Jinn, and we will find a senior knight to accompany you also."

"No," Obi-Wan said, before catching himself. "I only mean, I do not believe we should put a padawan anywhere near the path of this assailant. I would request that padawan Jinn remain here, on Coruscant, to prepare for his trials when I return, and begin teaching Anakin. They have already bonded."

"We haven't agreed to allow the boy to be trained yet. He is too old," Windu said and Obi-Wan paused, Yoda speaking up, before he could draw together the best response to turn the council in Anakin's favour.

"Seen him being trained, master Kenobi has."

"Is this true?" Mundi asked.

"Yes," Obi-Wan admitted. "I saw the boy with a his hair styled as a padawan, I believe he is destined to be a jedi." Obi-Wan had discussed Anakin with Qui-Gon often over the last week, his apprentice believed Anakin to be the chosen one, and while Obi-Wan didn't disagree, he knew the council were likely to be wary of one so special, rather than welcoming.

"A sign from the force, you think this is."

"I do. I believe the force is telling me that this boy is significant, and that he should be trained."

"Thank you, master Kenobi, we will take this under consideration," Gallia said.

"Yes. Speak to master Vos, he is currently in the temple, and between padawans, he should be able to accompany you to Naboo. You should be able to find him in the salles. Tell you apprentice we are ready to meet the boy."

"Thank you, masters," Obi-Wan bowed politely and left the room.

"Master?" Qui-Gon said, leading a nervous Anakin down the hallway. "Do you not wish to be present for Anakin's test?"

"He is in good hands," Obi-Wan smiled, crouching down when he noticed Anakin's crestfallen expression. "You have exceptional talent, Anakin, but do not fret if they do not say what you want to hear. I will find a path for you, no matter what," he comforted, straightening up when Anakin looked a little less nervous.

"You're leaving?"

"Just to run an errand."

"It must be pressing?"

"I will tell you about it late," Obi-Wan promised, trying to tell himself it was not a lie, just that later would be far beyon dwhat his apprentice expected. "Fight for him, Qui-Gon, they will try to resist you; but do not grow irate, think of how it will impact the boy, not only yourself," Obi-Wan cautioned, leaving the room, hoping that Qui-Gon saw it as a test of his potential as a master - as Anakin's master.

In truth, Obi-Wan moved quickly, hoping that he might find Quinlan and have taken off, before Qui-Gon realised he had left him behind. Qui-Gon would hate him for it, and Obi-Wan would likely hate himself for the pain he knew it would cause; but he would consider himself lucky, if Qui-Gon was alive to hate him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ty for reading as always ily <3


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case you missed it: chapter one has been blessed with art from Kurtssingh!! Go reblog them on [tumblr](https://kurtssingh.tumblr.com/post/623532457564733440/illustration-for-littlelynns-but-a-shadow-3) and consider becoming a [patreon](https://www.patreon.com/kurtssingh/posts) because they're the besssst

As it turned out, because very little seemed to go Obi-Wan’s way these days, leaving before Qui-Gon and Anakin had finished with the council would be impossible, even if Obi-Wan hadn’t received instruction to wait until the next day, when the queen was due to depart, it would have been impossible, because Quinlan needed a little more than ‘grab a bag we’re leaving’ and ships had to be organised. 

Which left Obi-Wan with the unfortunate dilemma of what to do about his padawan, if his tactic of simply running wasn’t going to be possible. He couldn’t very well avoid Qui-Gon for close to thirteen hours...or could he? Most of it would be spent asleep, although they did share quarters. Obi-Wan’s chambers absolutely soaked in Qui-Gon’s presence, whether the young man himself was actually present or not, usually he found that comforting.

He had briefed Quinlan on the mission and he promised he would be ready to depart as part of the queen’s entourage the next day before drawing Obi-Wan into a sparring session in the salle, which he saw no use in refusing, regardless of his mood. He and Quinlan were friends, and if he was sparring with Quinlan, then he wasn’t  _ technically  _ avoiding his padawan in that moment. 

He worked up a good sweat with Quinlan, he enjoyed sparring with Qui-Gon of course, but it was good to occasionally practice with someone who didn’t know his every move inside and out. Quinlan also let him know that Bant had returned to the temple earlier than expected, giving Obi-Wan the perfect excuse to go and see her, instead of going anywhere that he might stumble across his padawan. 

However, he was only halfway through his cup of tea with his oldest friend, when there was a knock on Bant’s door, and somehow, Obi-Wan knew who it was before she looked. He was half tempted to ask her to pretend he wasn’t here, but then she would ask questions, and Obi-Wan knew that the fewer questions were asked about him and Qui-Gon, the better off he was for it. 

“Good afternoon, master Eerin, is my master with you?”

“Yes, we were just having some tea,” Bant greeted pleasantly, and Obi-Wan adopted his best serene expression. 

“Hello padawan, may I help you?” Obi-Wan asked, pretending he did not know Qui-gon well enough to recognise the tightness around his eyes for what it was. 

“I was hoping I might speak to you privately, master,” Qui-Gon said. “I would have waited until later, but I was not certain I would see you this evening.”

“Exciting plans padawan?” Bant asked, misreading what was going unsaid between them entirely; that Qui-Gon was well aware that Obi-Wan was avoiding him. 

“Something like that,” he smiled at her and Bant squeezed his arm.

“I think I can spare him for a few minutes at least, but don’t hog him Qui-Gon, you get to see more of him than I do already,” she teased, and Obi-Wan knew he had no choice but to put down his half-finished tea and follow his padawan. 

“Is there something you needed, padawan?” Obi-Wan asked politely, regretting it immediately when Qui-Gon’s expression shuttered and he crossed his arms over his chest. 

“Don’t pretend you don’t know.”

“You are referring to the mission to Naboo. Given the presence of a sith the council has decided that bringing a padawan along on the mission puts said padawan at an undue level of risk, as such, they have decided that a more experienced jedi pair should handle it from here. This is not a punishment Qui-Gon, you will have time to prepare for your trials and help Anakin settle in while I am gone,” Obi-Wan said, turning to leave, only for a strong hand on his arm to stop him, and steer them both into a nearby alcove instead; Obi-Wan was relieved that no one was in the hallway to see it happen.

“Quinlan doesn’t know you like I do! More experience or not, I am the best partner you could have on this mission and you know it!” 

“That is arrogant, padawan, Quinlan and I have known each other for a long time, we work well together.”

“Not as well as we do. Please master, I won’t be able to sleep worrying about you, what if he can’t keep you safe, what if he doesn’t know how to tell when you plan to feint, or about the way you sometimes leave your left side exposed?”

“Padawan stop. I am the master, it is my place to protect you, not the other way around. Your desire to protect me is not enough of a reason for you to risk your life.”

“Though it seems enough for you to risk yours!” Qui-Gon’s voice held a note of irritation, his emotions bubbling too close to the surface, forcing Obi-Wan to see the damage he had done to his padawan by allowing the unspoken thing between them. 

“This is different,” Obi-Wan replied, ashamed of the desperation in his voice, his eyes catching on Qui-Gon’s sternum again. A red blade, falling to his knees.

“This is because of what happened?” Qui-Gon asked, too perceptive, as always, Obi-Wan pulled his eyes away. “Master it was barely a bruise.”

“It could be so much worse, padawan, you were lucky. Prepare for your trials, my mind will not be changed.”

“Prepare for my  _ trials _ . So this is to be our last mission together and you would send me away? Our time together is nearing its end and you want  _ less  _ of it?” The hurt in Qui-Gon’s voice was so much more difficult for Obi-Wan to hear, than the anger before it had been. “Is this because of what I said? About Corellia and Cato, about how I f- ”

“Don’t,” Obi-Wan said, voice sharper than he intended, Qui-Gon rocking back from him. Obi-Wan collected himself quickly, centering himself in the force. “You have been given your instructions, padawan, I expect you to respect them and conduct yourself well in the temple while I am gone.” He said, beginning the short walk back to Bant’s quarters. 

“Yes master,” he heard Qui-Gon say, his voice holding nothing of his usual spark of character and life. Flat obedience; the council would be so pleased.

“Everything alright?” Bant asked him, eyes scanning over Obi-Wan’s tight expression as he reentered the room. 

“Fine,” Obi-Wan smiled. “What do you say we catch up on some holovids before I have to leave again?” Obi-Wan suggested, relieved when Bant agreed heartily, even more so when Bant let him fall asleep on her couch, halfway through the third, allowing Obi-Wan to avoid his own quarters and furious padawan in a way that would arouse less suspicion than if he were found sleeping in the archives.

Obi-Wan woke with a deserved crick in his back and an alarm he had set going off. Dragging himself into an upright position with a groan, Obi-Wan wondered how desperately he needed to go back to his own quarters before he left. He shook himself from being so stupid, he needed his things, a change of robes at the very least, and showing up entirely unpacked and unprepared would only lead to questions about why.

So with a farewell to Bant - who grunted in response, never predisposed towards mornings - Obi-Wan headed to his quarters before diverting for breakfast instead. He chatted with some old friends over his food, watching the clock keenly, he was leaving less time than was sensible to collect what he needed from his chambers, but he knew that being short on time was a good reason to hurry in and out. A genuine reason not to allow Qui-Gon to stop him to speak, no matter how manufactured it was.

But when Obi-Wan opened the doors to his quarters and slipped in quietly, it only took him a few moments to realise that the apartment was empty, and had been all night. He wondered, with a guilty frisson of jealousy, where he had been.

He had been dreading bumping into his padawan, but when he hadn’t been there, his steady presence missing from a place it was expected, Obi-Wan felt wrongfooted and off kilter. Which probably served him right. It was for the best, Obi-Wan told himself, Qui-Gon could recover from being left behind by his master, he could not recover from a saber through the chest.

After gathering his things, Obi-Wan made good time to the landing platform near where the queen was staying. He managed to beat her there, thankfully, no one expected tardiness from a jedi, but only just, and Quinlan raised an eyebrow at him. 

“Was wondering if you were going to show up at all, leave the sith to me. Where’s Jinn? You two are usually attached at the hip?” Quinlan asked with a smile, and Obi-Wan tried not to tense up as if it were an accusation, which, of course, it wasn’t. 

“He’s staying here,” Obi-Wan replied. “A padawan shouldn’t be near a sith.”

“Doubt he was very happy about that,” Quinlan said as they followed the queen and her entourage back onto the ship. 

“Indeed not,” Obi-Wan agreed. “But we have all had to deal with wayward padawans.”

“Yeah, and always worth it, in the end,” Quinlan added, a sentiment Obi-Wan could more than agree with. 

He greeted the queen, who was not the queen again, back in disguise for safer travel, who inquired after his missing padawan, accepting Obi-Wan’s explanation of the danger the sith posed easily. Obi-Wan spent the first few hours of his journey checking over the ship, making sure everything was as he expected, cataloguing things so that he would notice if anything changed later on. He was pleased to find the Artoo droid whirring around on the ship. 

The last room he checked was his own, a mistake, as when he opened the door it was to reveal Qui-Gon and Anakin sitting on his bed playing cards. He stared for a moment, shocked, too far from Coruscant now to turn back, his padawan not safe at all, bound still for Naboo.

Perhaps fate was inescapable, perhaps no matter what he did or how hard he tried to avoid it, Qui-Gon was going to die on Naboo, a red saber through his sternum. 

Qui-Gon didn’t even have the good grace to look petulant, looking resolute and stubborn instead, an expression and stance that was usually reserved for the council, when he was so sure he was in the right. Obi-Wan’s hand tightened on the door. 

“What are you doing here, padawan?” Obi-Wan asked, keeping his voice measured as Anakin shot a worried look between the two of them. 

“Am I not supposed to be here?” He asked worriedly, always worried about being a pain, a burden, as if the slightest misstep could make him more trouble than he was worth, get him shunted along to another master. It was easy for Obi-Wan to see that Anakin was only here because Qui-Gon had brought him, told him it was fine. 

“It’s fine Anakin, Qui-Gon’s mistake not yours. I believe Padmé is in the mess, I am sure she would like to see you again,” Obi-Wan said, suppressing his emotions so that the boy felt nothing more than honesty from him, relieved when Anakin lit up with excitement and left the small room. 

“Obi-Wan - ”

“You brought the  _ boy _ !” Obi-Wan hissed when the door slid shut and he was certain Anakin was out of earshot. Grasping for the one safe topic, something he could channel his emotions into that wasn’t grabbing hold of Qui-Gon, clinging to his clothes and begging him to go home.

“I didn’t know what to do! The council was being difficult, I couldn’t very well leave him there, surrounded by people who didn’t want him.” 

“You were supposed to leave yourself there! You were supposed to take the time to start teaching Anakin somewhere that you would both be  _ safe _ ,” Obi-Wan hissed, feeling his heartbeat rising, a ragged edge to his voice already. 

“No I am supposed to be with you! I will not let your cowardice towards the emotion between us sully our last mission together, I will not let you steal away what time I have left with you because you’re scared of your feelings,” Qui-Gon insisted, they were both itching to reach out for the other, it crawled over their bond even as they both stood still and tense, a meter between them like an uncrossable canyon. 

Obi-Wan did fear his feelings towards his padawan, there was no use in denying that, he feared what it meant for him as a jedi, he feared how it had made him fail Qui-Gon over the last few years, he feared what would happen if the council discovered the depth of his emotion, the neverending expanse of it. But that fear was nothing compared to the encompassing dread that crushed down on Obi-Wan, when he thought about Qui-Gon setting foot back on Naboo.

“Please don’t do this Qui-Gon, please go home, please, I am begging of you, as soon as we reach Naboo you must leave,” Obi-Wan begged, the anger in his voice snuffed out, he felt his shoulders shaking, tears he couldn’t stop welling in his eyes. Qui-Gon noticed the change fast, the defiant set of his shoulders vanishing as he strode into the space between them and pulled Obi-Wan to his chest, wrapping his arms around him, pillowing his cheek on Obi-Wan’s head. 

“Master I don’t understand what is going on. There have been dangerous missions before but I have never seen you like this. I have never seen you scared before.”

“I was terrified, on Corellia.”

“I was, on Cato,” Qui-Gon replied as Obi-Wan’s fingers dug into his clothes, always giving Obi-Wan anything he needed to hear, always honest, always good. “But master, on Corellia I was on the verge of death. I am alive and well.”

“No,” Obi-Wan shook his head. “You don’t understand.”

“Then help me to, I know you have been keeping things from me, that something is happening to you, stirring just behind your eyes that you won’t share with me. Do you wish for me to step away, is this too much for you master, is that what you are trying to say?” Qui-Gon asked, voice soft and gentle, hurt but forgiving. It was the perfect opportunity for Obi-Wan to do just that, there were no excuses anymore, but instead, as he had perhaps been destined to all along, Obi-Wan held on tighter instead. 

“It is nothing.”

“Do not lie to me master! If you cannot be honest with me then what hope do we have here, I never know whether you want me to pull you close or push you away, I never know whether you want me to take your hand or drop it, I never know if you welcome my presence or wish it were gone,” Qui-Gon said, voice rising as his frustration returned, and Obi-Wan felt guilt all over again. “I never know because you will not tell me! Some days I am not even sure if my feelings are returned, or if you are just too sweet and too lonely to tell me so,” Qui-Gon admitted, trying to extract Obi-Wan from his hold all of a sudden, the loss of that warmth, the distress left him clinging and blurting out the truth.

“I saw you die,” Obi-Wan gasped, the words almost choking him, just to say aloud. Qui-Gon’s actions instantly stilled. 

“What? You felt something in the force?” Qui-Gon asked, Obi-Wan shook his head.

“No, I  _ saw _ it Qui-Gon, I need it every night when I close my eyes. Those strange dreams never stopped and it showed me you, the sith’s lightsaber through your chest, collapsing and dying in my arms. I saw it, I see it over and over until it is all I can think of. Everything of import in those dreams seems to be happening no matter what I do and I thought that if I left you on Coruscant you would be safe, you would be nowhere near the sith and you wouldn’t die, I wouldn’t lose you. I don’t know how to lose you, Qui-Gon.”

“Obi-Wan why didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t want to make it real, I didn’t want to scare you.”

“When I asked the council why I had been removed from the mission, they only said that it was too dangerous, spoke nothing of premonitions.”

“I didn’t tell them,” Obi-Wan looked down at the floor, too ashamed to meet his padawan’s eyes. “I feared that if they knew they would sense the depth of my emotion for you, I can’t - I can barely even voice what I saw for the force of what it makes me feel, as though I am falling through the air with nothing to catch me, as though a black hole is opening up in my chest, trying to devour me whole.”

“The depth of your emotion?” Qui-Gon asked quietly and Obi-Wan’s mind caught on his dream self. The one that had held Qui-Gon as he died, never knowing how deeply he was loved, how completely, left only with a hollow regret and weary sadness. He thought about how he had always believed that it never needed to be voiced, that to be silent between them meant he was breaking no rules, but he had been breaking them since Corellia, before, even. Whatever weak argument he had designed for himself was just that; weak, and it would fail to catch him and comfort him, if Qui-Gon died never hearing it for himself, no matter what he suspected his padawan already knew.

“I love you. I cannot lose you,” Obi-Wan whispered, and even as Qui-Gon’s hold on him tightened, Obi-Wan felt free, like a great weight had been lifted off of his chest, and the words started pouring from him without his control. “I love you, I have loved you for so long. I was a fool to never say it, as if not saying it would make it less real, but I want it to be real, Qui-Gon, please, I can’t lose you, I don’t know what I would do. I love you and I shouldn’t, and I’m sorry because I don’t know how to be sorry about it. I love you and I just,  _ fuck _ , why couldn’t you have stayed in the temple.” Obi-Wan’s voice cracked, felt himself shake with unshed tears, terrified of Qui-Gon’s presence on this ship. 

“Oh, Obi-Wan,” Qui-Gon said softly, impossibly softly, large hand cupping Obi-Wan’s cheek, tipping his eyes up to see his face, handsome and everything Obi-Wan had ever wanted but was not allowed to have. “I love you too.”

Slowly, slow enough that Obi-Wan could pull away - as he would ever, as if he  _ could _ \- Qui-Gon ducked his head down and claimed Obi-Wan’s lips in a sweet kiss that Obi-Wan knew immediately he would never be able to live without, but would have to, unless he was willing to destroy Qui-Gon’s chance to be a jedi, to squander his own upbringing. 

But as Qui-Gon’s thumb stroked his cheek and kissed him deeper, Obi-Wan thought of the closed door, the snatch of privacy, and wondered if he couldn’t have both. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm srsly considering changing the title to 'Corellia, Cato, Naboo', so pls don't be confused if that happens - also feel free to let me know if you love or hate that idea.
> 
> I hope you enjoyed the chapter, next one in a few days <3


	7. Chapter 7

After news of their two stowaways became common knowledge in the ship - and after Quinlan had laughed for  _ far too long _ about it - Obi-Wan found himself back in his small room on the ship, with his padawan eating up what little space there was. There had only been one spare room aboard, and Quinlan had decided - loudly, between laughs - that it should be given to Anakin, as it hadn’t been his idea to sneak aboard. 

Which meant that Obi-Wan was alone with his padawan for the second time since something had shifted between them, and the first time had been interrupted by Quinlan calling through the comms to ask him if he knew there was a young Skywalker running about the ship. When the call had come through, Obi-Wan had jumped away from Qui-Gon’s embrace as if he’d been shocked with a power cable. Before they’d both exited his quarters, Qui-Gon had kissed him again sweetly, chastely, and Obi-Wan had managed not to panic.

Now though, faced with privacy again, and for the duration of a night, Obi-Wan felt nervous. Everyone expected Qui-Gon to be in here, Quinlan didn’t suspect a thing, making good natured jibes about cover-stealing padawans, because their relationship was supposed to be entirely innocent. 

And then there was the other matter, the one that had little to do with Qui-Gon being in this room, and more to do with him being on this ship at all, bound inexorably for Naboo, for the fate Obi-Wan had seen. He couldn’t be thankful for what had been allowed to bloom between them, for the dread that lapped at his heels with every parsec they covered.

“I can practically hear you thinking, master,” Qui-Gon murmured. “For once I am not entirely sure about what.” 

“Lots of things,” Obi-Wan replied, hanging his cloak on the door.

“They are making you unhappy,” Qui-Gon said, a note of uncharacteristic anxiety in his voice. Their bond had grown too, even through one - deep, longing, desperate - kiss, the invisible threads that bound them together had multiplied, grown stronger, held tighter. It was no surprise, that Qui-Gon was able to feel the way Obi-Wan’s thoughts swirled, just as he could feel the trepidation, so unusual for his padawan. 

“I am not unhappy about what happened between us,” Obi-Wan replied carefully, sitting down on the edge of the bed, glad, when Qui-Gon sat next to him. 

“But you are not completely happy about it, either,” Qui-Gon intuited, and Obi-Wan felt awash with guilt, he knew this was somehow simple for his padawan, that he was somehow entirely at peace with it. But they were not the same person, and they were not in the same position. 

“It is not you,” Obi-Wan said, finding Qui-Gon’s hand beside his, letting their fingers tangle and lace together. “It is...a stressful situation. Everything about this is.”

“Then talk to me. If you feel guilty because you are my master, then do not, you have never failed me, though I know you think differently. And if it is about the council, then I can keep a secret, I would keep any secret, if it would be I was allowed to keep you also, Obi-Wan,” Qui-Gon said, voice so earnest it almost hurt to hear, as he held Obi-Wan’s hand in both of his.

“Those are concerns, and ones that we will talk about. But in this moment, I just wish you had stayed in Coruscant, I do not have the power to worry about anything else.”

“In these dreams I am your master. Have you ever considered that they reflect not that I die, but that the master between us does. You are so focused on saving me, that you have barely considered the danger to yourself,” Qui-Gon said.

“No, I had not,” Obi-Wan answered honestly, because if they were going to shroud themselves in secrets, then they at least needed to be honest with one another. “I am so scared, Qui-Gon. I know that I should not be, that this is precisely why attachment is forbidden, but I am.” He curled into Qui-Gon’s warmth, when he slipped free of Obi-Wan’s hand, so that he could bring an arm around his shoulders instead. “Will you promise me to stay away from the sith? To go where I tell you and not try to follow master Vos and I?”

“I do not want to make promises that I know I won’t keep, we will have better chances as a trio.”

“No, Qui-Gon, please. You must stay away.” 

“Every fear you feel for me in that fight, I feel for you also. If our positions were reversed, would you make this promise?” 

“You will distract me,” Obi-Wan said, a dirty trick, he knew that, but it was also true. “If you are there I will not be able to concentrate. You got hurt because I left myself open the last time we fought the sith, he will have a double bladed saber this time. It will kill you, this time.”

“The only reason you are alive is because I saved you from that very same blade.”

“The only reason my defences were so open was because I was wracked with worry for you.”

“That is not fair, Obi-Wan, I - ”

“I know. But if you want to protect me, then the best thing you can do is stay away from that fight,” Obi-Wan pleaded, hand on Qui-Gon’s chest, obsessively over where a bruise had been.

“I will promise to try,” Qui-Gon conceded, possibly because of the tears he could feel pressing against his collar. 

“Thank you,” Obi-Wan sighed, relaxing slightly. He wondered if they should speak about the other things, but he was tired. 

“Let us sleep, Obi-Wan, I have no doubt tomorrow will not be relaxing either,” Qui-Gon said. 

Obi-Wan had half imagined that if they ever gave in to the love between them, it would be a passionate thing, uncontainable, like a damn breaking. Perhaps he had read too many holonovels. He preferred it, like this, undressing each other in a way that was new for its intimacy, but calm and comforting, with scattered kisses. The bed was barely large enough for two, and Obi-Wan was relieved for the easy way he was able to drape himself over his padawan’s strong chest, one leg slung over his. 

Obi-Wan’s dreams returned, he saw more of the battle on Naboo, he saw Anakin being reckless and foolish and saving hundreds - if not thousands - of lives through his actions. The battle slipped and morphed into another, more droids, but clones of all things. Then the scene changed again, a war, people calling him general, feeling tired, so tired. And finally back to Naboo, a red saber, Qui-Gon hitting his knees, collapsing to the side.

Obi-Wan woke with a gasp, waking his bed partner, Qui-Gon sitting up with him, rubbing his back, saying soothing things, allowing Obi-Wan’s death grip on his arm. 

They discussed Anakin, should they let him get into that fighter, for all Obi-Wan knew the fight would be unwinnable without him, and he had seen him survive. But it filled Obi-Wan with guilt, to let a child throw himself into such danger. In the end, he informed the queen and Panaka of what needed to be done, that the fighters would struggle to penetrate the shields, but there was a weakness if anyone could get a ship inside. 

On the flight, Obi-Wan also mentioned to the queen, that the force had given him the sense of a second civilisation inhabiting Naboo, which might be able to help fight, the queen, who was not the queen, thanking him for his council. 

Obi-Wan was tense from the moment his foot set back on the planet, Qui-Gon behind him, Quinlan finally looking more serious when they landed. He had tasked his padawan with keep and eagle eye on Anakin, to make sure he didn’t get himself into danger - into any more danger than he already was, simply by virtue of being on a planet at the brink of war. 

The underwater city was abandoned, but Obi-Wan was able to guide them through the luscious forests, to a place he had seen only in his dreams, a sacred place, where they found the gungans gathered. The queen revealed herself, and this show of faith alongside her plea, her humbleness and passionate words, seemed to be enough for Boss Nass. 

Anakin stared at Padmé in surprise, the woman he’d been following around the ship, who had not only humoured, but enjoyed, his every question, now stepping out as the queen of a planet. Qui-Gon chuckled beside him, and later accused Obi-Wan of already having known, to which he smiled and winked, claiming to be particularly wise, before Qui-Gon realised he must have seen it in his dreams. 

Preparing for a battle was one of Obi-Wan’s least favourite activities, a grim chore, where the wrong decision would cost lives, guilt over the idea of letting Anakin get into a fighter, guilt over the idea of more gungans dying if he didn’t. Through it all, not letting Qui-Gon out of his sight. He discussed fighting styles with Quinlan, and what he had seen from the sith from their fight on Tatooine, the double bladed lightsaber from his dreams, the way he fought like a dance.

Before Obi-Wan was entirely ready for it, they were attempting to reach the viceroy. 

“Stay with the queen,” Obi-Wan instructed his padawan. “Even when the sith appears, you stay with the queen, keep her safe. Anakin, you hide, and you stay hidden until all of this is over.” He felt guilty, when the first fight broke out, and he saw Anakin scurry to hide in a fighter’s cockpit, his decision not to intervene, even knowing Anakin would not stay in the hangar. But he couldn’t worry about his decision for long, as a pair of double doors opened up to reveal the sith. 

“We’ll take the long way,” Padmé said, turning with her guard to navigate around the sith. Qui-Gon hesitated, looked set to stay. 

“Padawan, go,” Obi-Wan instructed, refusing to let his mind linger on the fact that in his dreams, the only way he had been able to defeat the sith was by using his anguish, he had no idea what would happen in this fight without it. If the sith defeated both he and Quinlan, would he find Qui-Gon next on his path to the queen?

Obi-Wan couldn’t afford to hold on to the thought, he needed to concentrate, or the battle would be over before it began. 

“So there really is a sith,” Quinlan said, cocking his head to the side as he watched the sith pace, both of them dropping their cloaks for better movement. “Talkative fellow.” Quinlan muttered, as the sith lit both ends of his lightsaber, Obi-Wan’s mind flashed to Qui-Gon, falling to his knees, and lit his own, determined. 

The fight was brutal, the sith easily a match for the pair of them, and under any other circumstances, Obi-Wan would have longed for Qui-Gon beside him, the practiced ease with which they knew each other’s movements, but instead he was relieved by Quinland beside him, his flourishes and twists so different to Qui-Gon’s no-nonsense style of fighting, Obi-Wan himself falling at some medium point. 

He was knocked from the catwalk at one point, but managed to use the force to assist his ascent back upwards, where Quinland was just managing to hold his own against the sith. He made a witty remark as Obi-Wan landed beside him again, and Obi-Wan wondered how he had the brain power for such things at times like these. Either way, his comment, the blasé nature of it, seemed to piss off the sith, who battled on harder. 

With an expert parry, Quinlan managed to leave an opening for Obi-Wan, too short for a strike of his saber, but enough to knock the sith back with his elbow, leave him stumbling, but his saber was up again before either he or Quinlan could use the falter. Obi-Wan’s heart stuttered, when the sith ran towards a hallway filled with red energy curtains, trying to force them to make chase. Obi-Wan reached out a hand and drew on the force, eyes on the control panel and he pulled with everything he could reach, wrenching the control panel out and the red curtains up, blocking the hallway from anyone who wanted to enter. The sith glowered, and set off in a different direction.

“Stay together,” Obi-Wan shouted at Quinlan, his longer legs sending him striding off faster than Obi-Wan.

“Of course!” Quinlan replied, as if it were obvious, as if he weren’t caught up in the adrenalin of the fight and pulling ahead. He slowed just enough for Obi-Wan to catch him as the sith relit his lightsaber, and they clashed again, the sith with renewed vigor, Obi-Wan with relief to have avoided the corridor, but feeling as though he were now acting blind, had grown so used to a vague idea of what would happen next. 

Beside him Quinlan made a move that when Qui-gon did, was always a feint, and Obi-Wan left his left side open, so used to Qui-Gon filling the gap with this move, but Quinlan was not Qui-Gon, and the split second they were out of sync was enough for the sith to catch Quinlan on the thigh with his saber, the wound enough to stun, enough time for the sith to send Quinlan skittering back with a mighty push of the force, into a hole that Obi-Wan prayed had something for his friend to grab hold of. 

Facing the sith alone, Obi-Wan was forced into the defensive as the sith battered him with heavy, lightning fast arcs of his saber, breaking Obi-Wan’s defensive through sheer force as much as finesse. He told himself he had done it before, he had defeated this sith twice, once on Tatooine, and once in his dream; but both times he had had something to draw on beyond himself, both times he had been given a reason to pull on the dark. 

Still he fought, his ears buzzing with the sounds of clashing sabers, his arms were burning from the strain, but his movements remained strong and sure, until he misjudged the time it would take the sith to recover from a parry, brought back his saber to strike down hard and was knocked in the chin hard. 

His mind instantly flashed to his dreams, to Qui-Gon being hit with the same move, and he dropped to the ground and rolled despite the stun from the blow, just in time to miss the red saber stabbing into the air, where his chest had been less than a second ago. But he was on the floor now, vulnerable in a fight that he was already barely a match for, he went to stand and the sith swept his feet out from under him, sending him clattering back to the floor. He hastily blocked another blow from the sith’s sabre, but the sith had momentum and gravity from looming above him, and after blocking only three, Obi-Wan’s saber was knocked from his hands. 

Obi-Wan swallowed thickly, hoping at least, that Qui-Gon would not be the one to find him, as the sith raised his saber again and brought it down in a brutal swing. Obi-Wan closed his eyes and tried to find serenity when the sound of a saber hitting another rang out in his ears, a sizzling heat just inches from his face. He opened his eyes, a green blade glowing, stopping the red from touching him. 

“Master, your saber,” Qui-Gon grunted, using all his strength to push with his parry, force the sith back from Obi-Wan on the floor. Obi-Wan who scrambled to his knees and called his lightsaber back to him, joining Qui-Gon in the duel. 

Terror lashed at him, but he wrapped iron bands of control around his heart, he could not let himself give into it, he had to remain in sync with Qui-Gon, lest what happened on Tatooine happen again. The sith was growing angry, and that only made him a more formidable foe, and Obi-Wan was desperate to end this quickly, crying out in panic as Qui-Gon was nicked on the forearm as he jerked out the way of one of the red blades. 

With no though, Obi-Wan grabbed on to that panic, thought for a moment of everything he would lose, and latched on to something that as a jedi, he should never touch. He pushed the sith back, and out of the corner of his eye, where Quinlan had fallen, he saw a saber tossed back over the edge. He called it to him without hesitation, buoyed by confirmation that his friend was alive, and lit the second saber. 

Qui-Gon caught on to his actions instantly, moved seamlessly to flank the sith as Obi-Wan commanded almost all of his attention in front of him as he whirled the two lightsabers, the sith struggling to keep up with his movements and block Qui-Gon’s attacks as well. From across the room, Qui-Gon hurled a loose metal canister at the sith’s head which he stumbled to avoid, his dual blades then forced to deal with Obi-Wan’s two weapons in a fumbled parry as he was still off balance from the move, leaving his back entirely open for Qui-Gon to run his saber directly through his chest. 

The sith stilled, looking down at the green light protruding through his chest with a confused expression that morphed into fear, when with an angry shout, Obi-Wan cut him in two at the waist, the two halves of his body toppling and falling into oblivion off the side of the walkway. 

Panting and breathing heavily, Obi-Wan turned off his lightsabers and dropped them to the ground, Qui-Gon doing the same to catch Obi-Wan advance as he threw his arms around his padawan and buried his face in his neck, clinging onto him, silently sobbing with relief. Qui-Gon’s arms came around him, stopped his violent shaking, claimed his lips in a searing kiss that went on and on until Obi-Wan felt he knew Qui-Gon’s taste better than his own. 

“You saved my life,” Obi-Wan panted when they finally broke apart. 

“I am fairly sure you saved mine as well,” Qui-Gon murmured, kissing him again and again, like he couldn’t quite stay away, the pair of them collapsing to their knees as they held onto one another.

“It’s gone quiet, did you both die?” A voice called from the well Quinlan had fallen down. “If you’re not dead could you, I don’t know, maybe help me out!”

They broke their embrace with a laugh, and went to help Quinland, stuck almost twenty meters down. 

Everything happened in a flurry after that. Anakin had of course, gone with the other pilots, and saved many lives in doing so, thankfully returned in one piece. Obi-Wan contacted the council regarding what had happened, and they all agreed that after his achievements, the boy should be taken into the creche for remedial training before being taken on as an apprentice. 

Obi-Wan felt light, as if he were walking on air, and Qui-Gon teased him for his happiness, even though he clearly shared in it, obi-Wan’s palpable relief at having steered off such a bleak future pouring down their bond, making the pair of them far gidder than jedi should be. 

He went to bed that night in Qui-Gon’s arms, settling, knowing the sight of his beloved being killed would no longer haunt him, and he woke in the small hours of the morning screaming desperately, Qui-Gon reaching to try and soothe him, as the image of Anakin, maimed and burning and spewing hated seared itself into his memory.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soz, but i mean there are eight chapters to go, surely you saw it coming >.< plus is it really a Quiobi fic if Obi doesn't suffer?
> 
> I hope you're still enjoying it! Sorry for failing to reply to the comments, i cherish each and every one of them beyond belief <3


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> there is some of the most gratuitously affectionate smut I have ever written in this chapter, enjoy or avoid at your discretion, 'tis at the end, nothing of the story proper would be missed by skipping it

“Obi-Wan! Obi-Wan what is it? Shhh, it is okay you’re safe, you’re safe with me,” Qui-Gon’s voice managed to cut through Obi-Wan’s jumbled mind, his padawan was moving to slot himself behind Obi-Wan, cradle him in his arms. 

Obi-Wan breathed shakily, letting Qui-Gon’s soothing voice lessen his rabbiting heart, though when he calmed from his panic, he started crying in great heaving sobs, as he processed what he had seen, turning in Qui-Gon’s arms and pressing his face into Qui-Gon’s neck. 

Qui-Gon rocked him gently, talking about something that Obi-Wan tried to grab hold of, something unimportant in the grand scheme of things, his desire to start another garden in the temple, whether or not the council would allow it. In the last couple of years, Qui-Gon’s voice had become a balm to him, the deep, soft rumble of it; Qui-Gon had noticed it seemed - of course he had. Gradually, Obi-Wan’s sobs stopped, receding to quiet tears as Qui-Gon held him and rubbed his back. 

“Can you tell me what happened?” He asked, and Obi-Wan didn’t have the energy to feel embarrassed, that once again he was the one seeking comfort from his padawan, when it should have been the other way around. 

“I saw - I saw - ” Obi-Wan couldn’t finish the sentence, burrowing further into Qui-Gon, as if it were possible. Qui-Gon hushed him softly, ran fingers through his hair. 

“You are still having the dreams? But it is okay master, you’re awake now, the sith is vanquished and we have left Naboo, I am alive - and I plan to stay that way for a good long while,” Qui-Gon murmured and Obi-Wan shook his head against his padawan’s broad chest. “Were we somewhere else then, somewhere in the future?”

“I didn’t see you,” Obi-Wan managed, and Qui-Gon held him for long minutes, waiting for Obi-Wan to be ready to speak. “I saw Anakin.”

“You saw him die?” Qui-Gon asked carefully, after a small silence, but never stopping his hands rubbing soothing circles into Obi-Wan’s skin. 

“Worse. I, I almost don’t know what I saw, there was no context, I don’t understand how it could have happened. He was older, we were on a molten planet, fighting, he hated me, I could feel how much he hated me. And I, we were screaming at each other, he wanted to kill me I know he did, and I - I _maimed_ him, Qui-Gon, I cut him down until he had only one mechanical hand left and he tried to drag himself up the bank and he was still screaming at me. He caught _fire_ Qui-Gon, and I didn’t help him. I don’t understand why I wouldn’t help him. I just left him there to burn.” Obi-Wan felt bile building in his throat but forced it down, he didn’t want to leave Qui-Gon’s arms to get to the ‘fresher, wasn’t sure he could move, in that moment. 

“Oh Obi-Wan, I am so sorry. Perhaps this one was just a nightmare, not like the others?” Qui-Gon said, pressing kisses to Obi-Wan’s hair.

“It felt the same as the others. More confusing but I think that’s because it is further away. It’s the future, I know it is, I - how could I do that to him. How could that happen?”

“Is it possible he turned to the dark side?”

“He felt dark,” Obi-Wan admitted, but he thought of the little boy asleep in the other room, who had saved so many lives already. “But I don’t understand how that can be, he is such a sweet boy, he only wants to help people.”

“He wants to be powerful, too. He has spent the first nine years of his life entirely powerless, he is desperate not to feel that way again, but the lessons he will receive in the creche should teach him serenity.”

“What if they fail?”

“Then we will teach it to him.”

“I don’t know what to do,” Obi-Wan Obi-Wan fretted, feeling cold all of a sudden. “He has to be trained, I can’t abandon him. I should warn the council of what I have seen, but if I tell the council, they will refuse to have him trained. I can’t do that to him, I can’t have wrenched him from his life with promises of freedom only to send him away.”

“You prevented my fate from catching me, I am sure we can do the same for Anakin; we will be vigilant, watch for malevolent influences over him. We can keep him safe, Obi-Wan, just like you kept me safe. But you do not have to be alone in it this time, I will always be with you,” Qui-Gon said, easily accepting Obi-Wan’s kiss as he leaned his head up. 

“Thank you, Qui-Gon. I’m sorry to have woken you.”

“Don’t apologise, my love, I am glad I was here,” Qui-Gon replied, helping Obi-Wan settle back down in bed, letting him rest his head on his padawan’s chest, the steady thump of his heartbeat soothing. “Try to get some more rest, we can talk more tomorrow, when things are clearer.” 

They spoke about Anakin at length on the flight home, always wary of being overheard by the boy, or by Quinlan, and decided on watchfulness as the best course, to judge the boy for a future that had not happened yet, and turn him from his new home, into a world where he knew nothing and no one, was too cruel. And if it had been some dark influence that had corrupted him, it would only make him easier to reach. 

When they returned to the temple, Anakin was anxious about entering the creche, understanding that he was far behind the children his own age, embarrassed about being placed in a class full of younglings. But with some comforting words from Obi-Wan and some far better ones from Qui-Gon, he went to the creche master. They stayed for a few more minutes, to make sure Anakin settled, before finding Quinlan and going to the council chamber. 

They listened to Obi-Wan’s account of what had happened on Naboo, congratulating them on defeating the sith - though Yoda’s caution that the sith came in pairs left Obi-Wan’s thoughts sticking on what he had seen in his dream. Worrying for the boy in the creche. 

“Thank you master Vos, you are dismissed, there are other matters to discuss with master Kenobi and padawan Jinn,” Windu dismissed Quinlan who bowed respectfully and left the chambers. 

“We had hoped, upon master Kenobi’s return, to be discussing your trials. But instead we find ourselves once again questioning your standing as a jedi, as you have proven yet again your insolence and disobedience,” Windu scolded, Qui-Gon accepted it with more grace than he usually did, but Obi-Wan felt himself growing annoyed for his padawan; the oldest padawan in the order. “Clearly you are not ready for - ”

“No!” Obi-Wan protested, and the council masters looked up at him, surprised, so unused to Obi-Wan being anything other than the pinnacle of deference. “Forgive me masters, but to delay padawan Jinn’s knighting any further than it has already been would be a disservice to Qui-Gon, he is more talented than half of the knights in this order and I believe everyone here knows it.”

“A padawan who does not obey his master - ”

“Padawan Jinn does not always behave as you wish a padawan would, because he has been ready to be a Knight for years, and I have been treating him as if he is already such. It is insulting not only to Qui-Gon, but to the order as a whole to continue to hold him back further. Even yourselves give us missions dangerous enough that they should rightly be given to a pair of knights, not a padawan and master team, which tells me that you know padawan Jinn should have been a knight long ago. ”

“Be that as it may, we would not wish for a knight to be so willfully disobedient as padawan Jinn often exhibits either. He cannot be trusted. He believes he knows best.”

“In this instance he did. Had Qui-Gon done as he was told then not only would I be dead, and Quinlan be dead, but further the sith likely would have captured and killed Queen Amidala, and the droid army would not have been disabled, causing the deaths of countless gungans,” Obi-Wan pushed, working hard to keep the note of irritation out of his voice. He would love to keep Qui-Gon by his side, his heart breaking at the idea of Qui-Gon away from his side, forging out alone as a knight, but he couldn’t hold Qui-Gon back for such selfish reasons, he couldn’t fail as his master yet again. “There is nothing more Qui-Gon can learn from me, it is a pleasure to work with him, but holding him back is pointless.”

“Just because he was right in this instance does not mean the decision to disobey was acceptable, especially not when indicative of a larger pattern of behaviour,” Windu said again, from the silence of much of the council, he hoped most of them did not agree with his opinion on Qui-Gon. 

“Or it shows that he listens to the force, and goes where it guides him,” Obi-Wan argued, Windu narrowed his eyes at him.

“And you, padawan Jinn, what do you think hmm?” Yoda interjected, scrutinising Qui-Gon closely. 

“There will always be more I can learn from master Kenobi,” Qui-Gon answered. “We work well together, staying by his side will not be a hardship.”

“Work well together, you do,” Yoda agreed, and Obi-Wan made sure to dissipate his sudden apprehension about what the wise old master could mean. He meant nothing but what he said, of course, otherwise they would be having a very different conversation. 

“You wish to take Skywalker as your next padawan?” Windu asked, sudden, an accusation in his voice, as if that could even be a factor in why he was pushing for Qui-Gon’s trials, instead of the fact that he had been more than ready for a long time.

“I do not know if I would be the best choice, as Anakin’s master,” he said carefully. “I had imagined he would do well as Qui-Gon’s apprentice.”

“Master,” Qui-Gon looked up in surprise, but not upset, he liked Anakin, and after what he had seen, Obi-Wan doubted his own abilities to raise the boy. “He would thrive under your tutelage, as I have. I would be honoured to be his master, but masters, Anakin’s circumstances are unique, perhaps you should discuss whether the traditional method of one master, and one apprentice, is what would be best for him. He must not be treated as any other youngling, considering where he has come from, and what already lies in his past,” Qui-Gon said, and Obi-Wan smiled that the council got to see the wisdom that he so often did himself, but that usually abandoned his contrary padawan in the council chambers.

“We will consider what has been said here. About padawan Jinn’s trials, and about the boy.”

Later, when they were alone in their shared quarters, Qui-Gon hesitated as he was pouring tea, as if he were building himself up to say something, Obi-Wan waited patiently to discover what it was. 

“Obi-Wan, thank you for what you said to the council today, I understand that you were fighting for my future,” Qui-Gon started, adding sugar to Obi-Wan’s cup.

“I sense a ‘but’,” Obi-Wan said, trepidation creeping up his spine. 

“But I do not wish to be sent from your side. When I am knighted we will be lucky to see each other two times a year, with how often newly knighted Jedi are off-planet. That is not a life I am interested in leading.”

“You will be knighted at some point, whether the council decides to hold you back now or not,” Obi-Wan said, his throat felt thick. 

“I see,” Qui-Gon said quietly, and Obi-Wan reached out, taking his padawan’s hand in his own. 

“Do not mistake me, Qui-Gon. I want you by my side, I want you there always, but we are jedi, we will never have the normal lives of others.”

“I would leave,” Qui-Gon said, quietly enough that it was almost a whisper, kissing into Obi-Wan’s knuckles. 

“What?”

“I would leave the order, to be with you.”

“Qui-Gon, don’t say that,” Obi-Wan replied, trying not to let panic grip at him, had he already taken so much from Qui-Gon? He would chose Qui-Gon, he knew he would, but Qui-Gon couldn’t possibly want to leave, and Obi-Wan had become sure that they could manage, could have both their lives as jedi and their love for each other. “You are the best the order has seen in so many years, I couldn’t bear the thought that I had stolen this away from you. We can have both, Qui-Gon, we can make it work.” Obi-Wan said, relieved when Qui-Gon lent in to his kisses, it felt like an agreement, if a little melancholy for the future. 

“Perhaps I will become the creche master, then I would be at the temple always,” Qui-Gon smiled, half a joke. 

“You are very good with the little ones. But you are also magnificent with a lightsaber, and I dread to think what would become of your moods if you had to spend all your time on this, what do you call it, ‘concrete ridden pit’ of a planet,” Obi-Wan teased, and Qui-Gon chuckled, kissing him once more on the lips, then another on the nose. 

“You are very wise, master. We shall deal with the future, as it comes.”

The future came to Obi-Wan that night again, he saw flashes of a war he didn’t understand, a republic army of clones, and chancellor Palpatine, of all people, over and over again. He saw Anakin saving his life, saving Anakin’s life, and saw himself, Anakin and Palpatine in a falling ship amid a battle.

He woke screaming again, breathing heavily, as Anakin attempted to jump over him, and he slashed him to pieces. Qui-Gon sitting up with him in bed instantly aware, the same nightmare he had been having ever since they left Naboo; they always ended with Anakin in the dirt, destroyed. He felt so guilty for waking his padawan up every night, but so grateful for those arms around him, Qui-Gon’s own room abandoned for everything except appearances.

“Obi-Wan please, I do not want to take my trials, I do not want to be away from you while you are suffering,” Qui-Gon said, voice tired and desperate as he cuddled Obi-Wan close, knowing how much the contact helped to calm him. 

“I will be okay, Qui-Gon, though I don’t deny I will miss your arms around me. It is out of our hands now anyway, up to the council,” Obi-Wan sighed, resting his forehead against Qui-Gon’s neck.

“Will you tell me what you saw?” Qui-Gon asked, always asked, never demanded, and Obi-Wan did, never held back a detail, chest easing with every part of the burden shared. 

Obi-Wan wished he didn’t have to relieve it so soon after it happened, but he forgot details so quickly remembering how before, he had only remembered many of the things he saw as he happened, and they were desperate to figure out what was happening, how they could help Anakin. Qui-Gon started keeping a coded diary, about the things Obi-Wan had seen, to see if they couldn’t organise it into some kind of timeline, but for now they were just ill-ordered snatches that made no sense individually, or with one another. 

None of it made any sense, his dreams not yet having given him the context he needed to decipher any of it, Anakin looking close to the age he had in his nightmare, but being filled with light. A war ravaging the galaxy, but unable to understand why, or see the sides of the conflict. Jedi being used as soldiers; someone had called him General Kenobi, he hated it. What Chancellor Palpatine had to do with any of it, he had no idea. 

They were only in the temple for a couple of days before the council summoned them back to their chambers, pulling them both away from the creche, where they had been giving Anakin some individual lessons, to help him catch up to his peers. He took to the force easily, but serenity was harder for him - more than it was for any nine year old - as he already knew emotion so well. Often when he closed his eyes and tried to calm, he thought of his mother, the only comfort in his life for so long, his thoughts then growing tumultuous instead of serene, when he thought of where she still was.

Anakin was not summoned along with them, which was a relief to Obi-Wan, not liking the way he was paraded in front of them and spoken _of_ instead of _to_ , and often with distrust for his power, and expected failure in his future. Obi-Wan knew that if Qui-Gon had his way, he would keep Anakin away from the council permanently. 

“We have made a decision,” Windu announced, before letting an unnecessary pause stretch out between them. “Looking back on your missions over the last few years, the council has decided that your performance in the trying conditions on Corellia, Dantooine, Taris, and Cato, should have classified as your trials for Insight, Spirit, Skill and Flesh, and we apologise for not deciding this sooner.

“It has also been decided, that your actions on Naboo qualify as your Courage trial,” Windu added, in a tone which made it clear that _he_ had not been in favour of this. “So it is this council’s honour to appoint you to the rank of Jedi Knight, Qui-Gon Jinn.”

“What? I mean, thank you masters, this is very unexpected,” Qui-Gon said, their bond pulsed with worry and Obi-Wan had to clamp down on his own hurt; they had both thought they would at least get to remain together while Qui-Gon took his trials, but now there would be no trials. 

“Earned it, you did. Tomorrow, your knighting ceremony will be.”

“As for the boy, we have discussed his unique circumstances further, he cannot stay in the creche for long, but will still have much catching up to do. We have decided that the best course of action would be for him to have two masters, instead of one, to better fast track the education he missed, and to keep a closer eye on him. The council has decided that you both should act as the boy’s masters,” Mundi explained, and both Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon looked up in surprise.

To get the council to break tradition just to take Anakin on, at the age he was, had been a fight from start to finish. And now they openly made an exception, a bend in their rigid rules, a concession to personal circumstances. Obi-Wan wondered which on the council had argued for it, and which against it, but found he had no idea. 

“Do you both consent to teach the young Skywalker?”

“Yes, yes of course,” Qui-Gon replied in a rush, Obi-Wan forced himself to be more calm, lest they give anything away, the relief flowing through their bond, that they would not be separated. It felt like the force itself was on their side. 

“It would be an honour,” Obi-Wan agreed, smiling and inclining his head respectfully. 

Qui-Gon waited until they were in an empty hallway, heading towards the creche, before he swept Obi-Wan up in his arms, pressing a kiss to Obi-Wan’s lips that terrified him for it’s openness in the temple, and ignited him, breaking apart with a giddy laugh, relieved to see no one else in the hallway still. 

“You cannot do that here,” Obi-Wan chided, but it was ineffective, with how he smiled through it. 

“Sorry master.”

“Ah but I am not your master anymore.”

“Hmm, you always will be, both my master, and _mine_ ,” Qui-Gon murmured, the pair of them separating enough to avoid suspicion, when they felt another presence approaching their quiet corridor. 

“Always,” Obi-Wan agreed quietly. “We should go tell Anakin the good news.”

“Yes, and then I am going to take you back to our rooms and celebrate,” Qui-Gon said quietly, sure not to be overheard, and forcing Obi-Wan to suppress his blush, but sending his desire down their bond, making Qui-Gon smile. 

Anakin was elated, jumping up and down on joy that he hadn’t yet learned to somewhat suppress; the creche master was trying to frown, but failing in the face of such glee from a small child. He wrapped his arms around first Qui-Gon, and then Obi-Wan in large child-like hugs before the creche master insisted he calm, still under his care for the next few weeks at least, until he had at least achieved the basics of meditation. 

“Will you visit?” Anakin asked as the creche master attempted to steer him away. 

“Fret not Anakin I am sure you will see both of us every day,” Obi-Wan smiled, Anakin grinning himself when Qui-Gon ruffled his hair. The creche master frowned, and Obi-Wan could guess at what at; that seeing him every day will hardly help with his attachment to the pair of them. But if you asked Obi-Wan, every padawan was attached to their master, they were just supposed to grow out of it by the time they became a knight. Himself and Qui-Gon were not a very good example of jedi anything, except perhaps saber forms. 

When the door to their quarters closed behind them, Qui-Gon’s arms wrapped around Obi-Wan’s waist from behind, a shiver running through him at the lips on his neck. 

“Something that you need, padawan?” Obi-Wan asked, excitement and anticipation heating him up as much as the warmth from Qui-Gon’s body, as his padawan’s hands peeled off Obi-Wan’s cloak and started undoing his belts. 

“Perhaps not need. But there is something I have wanted for a long time,” Qui-Gon said as Obi-Wan’s belts fell to the floor with a thud that felt deafening in the silent room. 

“Oh, what might that be?” Obi-Wan replied, biting down on his lip to hold back a whimper when Qui-Gon tugged at his collar to get access to more of his skin. 

“Master, I never knew you were coy,” Qui-Gon said, nosing along the exposed skin of Qui-Gon’s shoulder until Obi-Wan turned in his arms and leant up on his tiptoes to press a kiss to his lips. Qui-Gon met his lips in a chaste kiss that lasted only seconds before Obi-Wan felt his tongue pressing against the seal of his lips and yielded easily. 

The feel of Qui-Gon’s tongue in his mouth was one that he had grown used to - spoiled by - in the last week, Qui-Gon drowning him in passionate kisses every time they found themselves with a reliably piece of privacy. He knew the way Qui-Gon liked to bite on his lower lip, the way he groaned when Obi-Wan sucked on his tongue. 

Tonight was different though, more charged, the locked door of their quarters standing between them any anyone who might try to interrupt, and it showed in the way Qui-Gon’s hands roamed, the way Obi-Wan was tugging at his padawan’s clothes in turn. 

“Bedroom?” Obi-Wan suggested tentatively as Qui-Gon showered kisses on his jaw, teeth teasing, Obi-Wan could tell somehow, that he wanted to suck, to leave a mark, but knew that he wouldn’t. 

Qui-Gon didn’t answer with words, scooping Obi-Wan up and carrying him, Obi-Wan wrapped his arms and legs around his padawan, sinking into more deep kisses with Qui-Gon holding him, before he walked them into Obi-Wan’s bedroom. Qui-Gon dropped Obi-Wan on the bed, Obi-Wan bouncing on the mattress. 

“That was a little undignified.”

“Only a little,” Qui-Gon replied, crawling over Obi-Wan’s body and kissing him again. “But I think you enjoyed it.”

“A little,” Obi-Wan admitted, blushing as Qui-Gon set to work stripping them both of their remaining clothes. 

Obi-Wan had seen Qui-Gon shirtless many times, he knew the dusty colour of his nipples, the boardness of his chest, the definition of each of his abdominals, and when Qui-Gon threw his tabards aside, Obi-Wan couldn’t help but lean in, pressing his lips to Qui-Gon’s sternum, kissing his way across his chest until he found one of his nipples, and licking over it, teasing it with his tongue until he felt it go hard, heard his padawan groan. 

“Let me see you,” Qui-Gon urged after letting Obi-Wan explore his chest, pulling at the waistband of his pants, Obi-Wan blushing furiously as Qui-Gon stripped him bare. 

“And you,” Obi-Wan said, biting at his lip as his hand followed the trail of hair down from Qui-Gon’s belly button to his pants, watching wrapt as Qui-Gon finally lost the last of his clothes. “Honestly Padawan,” Obi-Wan half laughed, letting his head drop back against the pillows as he let his hand pet low on Qui-Gon’s stomach, a scarce millimetre from the thick thatch of hair there. 

“What?” Qui-Gon laughed, pretending to be offended but sharing in Obi-Wan’s smile.

“You know well what,” Obi-Wan grumbled playfully, his hand moving lower and wrapping around - or at least, as far as it could _go_ \- and stroked his cock slowly. “This is ridiculous, Qui.” 

“And here I was hoping you’d like it,” Qui-Gon teased, voice slightly breathy and dropping a kiss on Obi-Wan’s smiling lips. 

“Stop fishing for compliments,” Obi-Wan laughed, loudly when Qui-Gon deliberately licked at a ticklish spot. 

“Please?”

“You’re impossible,” Obi-Wan chided affectionately, making Qui-Gon gasp by rubbing his thumb over the head of Qui-Gon’s large cock. “But yes, Qui, I like your cock, I’ve never had such an overwhelming desire to put something in my mouth before, and I look forward to feeling it inside me; although you will have to go slow, Padawan mine, because I have never done this before, and you have a _very_ big cock.” 

“I’ve never done this before either, we can learn together. And for what it’s worth, master, I think you’re beautiful, ravishing, but I think I’m going to like you debauched even more.”

They kissed again, barely able to keep their lips off of one another, even as Obi-Wan’s reached into his bedside and drew out a tub of slick. He pressed it into Qui-Gon’s hand, who pulled back to look at it and raised an eyebrow. 

“Not a word,” Obi-Wan warned, his cheeks flaming. 

“Of course not,” Qui-Gon agreed, making Obi-Wan laugh again as his nipped his lips. “I’m sure there are plenty of reasons why you had this,” he continued, slicking his fingers and massaging one around Obi-Wan’s rim, making him gasp and spread his legs wide. “And none of them had to be because you were imagining me doing exactly this.” With a cheeky smile, he pressed a thick finger inside Obi-Wan who lost his own quip around a moan. 

Qui-Gon’s finger inside of him felt different to his own - thicker for a start, and wasn’t that just a sign of things to come - but also it just felt like _more_ , and unlike when he did this to himself, Obi-Wan didn’t know how Qui-Gon was going to move, where he was going to stroke and thrust, and that made Obi-Wan feel electric. 

“Good?” 

“Yes,” Obi-Wan said, his arms coming up around Qui-Gon’s shoulders, gripping him tight. 

“Another?”

“Please.”

“Always so polite,” Qui-Gon teased, and once again stole Obi-Wan’s comeback from his mouth by making him moan, pressing another finger into Obi-Wan’s tight hole. 

Oh two fingers, Obi-Wan could feel a burn, but Qui-Gon was patient and worked him slowly, gently stretching him out, smiling a far-too-self-satisfied smile when he found Obi-Wan’s prostate, and sent his master moaning loudly, nails raking over Qui-Gon’s shoulders. He reslicked his fingers and carefully pressed three inside of Obi-Wan, his free hand pumping Obi-Wan’s cock to offset the slightly uncomfortable stretch he felt, until Obi-Wan had to bat his hand away worried about coming too soon. 

After four fingers, and a growing impatience as his cock began to ache with continued arousal, Obi-Wan convinced Qui-Gon he was ready, wrapping his legs around Qui-Gon’s waist and pulling him close. Qui-Gon kissed him as he pressed the head of his cock against Obi-Wan’s hole, and as he breached him Obi-Wan tensed, the stretch more than four fingers had been, Qui-Gon stilled himself immediately. 

“Shh my love, you need to relax, I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Trying,” Obi-Wan panted, the way his hole was stretching just to accommodate the tip of Qui-Gon’s cock was already sending him reeling, trying to calm down as half his body asked him what the fuck he thought he was doing, and the other half wanted to beg for more. 

“There are plenty of other things we can do, there is no rush,” Qui-Gon soothed, running his fingers gently down Obi-Wan’s arms. 

“Have a little patience Qui, I want this, I just need, slow. At least at first.”

“I can go slow,” Qui-Gon murmured, making god on his word and sinking into Obi-Wan by increments, holding himself still even though Obi-Wan could see the control it took, the way his muscles quivered. 

“Fuck,” Obi-Wan gasped as Qui-Gon pressed in a little more, close to having all of him now, the muscles of Qui-Gon’s neck tight with tension. 

“Too much?” He asked, voice strained. 

“No, fuck, it feels good, move a little more,” Obi-Wan instructed, and Qui-Gon did as he was asked, the tip of his cock, which had just kissed Obi-Wan’s prostate now pressing against it more directly, making Obi-Wan whine and his body relax instinctually. 

Qui-Gon pressed the rest of the way inside, seating himself in Obi-Wan’s body full and giving him an overwhelmingly full sensation, which he knew might cause him some problems tomorrow, but in this moment was making his eyes roll with pleasure. 

“Fuck, Obi-Wan, you feel so - I didn’t know it would be like this, so - ”Qui-Gon started, beginning to roll his hips slowly. 

“So overwhelming?” Obi-Wan offered, breath hitching as Qui-Gon trust into him again. 

“I should have guessed, I’ve always been overwhelmed by you.”

“That was very cheesy, padawan,” Obi-Wan’s laugh broke off into a moan as Qui-Gon’s cock found his prostate again on the next thrust, and he leant down to kiss the sound from Obi-Wan’s lips. 

“Perhaps. But forgive me, master, I don’t think I am going to last,” Qui-Gon murmured between kisses, voice breathless as he started fucking Obi-Wan in earnest, each of his thrusts hard and deep inside him. 

“Nor I, your fingers inside me already had me on edge. Don’t stop, I want you to come, Qui, I want you to come, please.”

“We can take our time another night,” Qui-Gon agreed, picking up the pace of his thrust. 

Obi-wan pouted when he moved out of reach of his lips, but the expression was robbed of him as Qui-Gon wrapped a large hand around his cock and began stroking him in time with his thrusts. Obi-Wan came first, but only by a moment, crying out Qui-Gon’s name as his cock pounded into his prostate and his hand squeezed his cock, covering his own chest in come as Qui-Gon worked him through his orgasm, jerkily, still chasing his own as Obi-Wan’s ass tightened around him. 

“Keep going,” please Qui, I want you to come inside me,” Obi-Wan breathed, holding Qui-Gon close as he cradled Obi-Wan against the bed, looking for a moment as if he were thinking about stopping. Qui-Gon renewed his efforts, Obi-Wan looking up at his handsome face as he chased his pleasure from Obi-Wan’s hot body. Without thinking, he tangled a hand in Qui-Gon’s padawan braid, pulling him down for another kiss and moaning as he felt Qui-Gon tense and shoot thick ribbons of come inside him.

Qui-Gon collapse with him after his orgasm had been wrung from him, apologise when Obi-Wan winced, as he carefully pulled his cock free from his hole. 

“Let me clean you up, master,” Qui-Gon said, kissing Obi-Wan’s jaw, and while Obi-Wan was loath to let him leave the bed at all, it did sound more pleasant than his current state. Though he flushed with embarrassment, when he felt Qui-Gon looking at his hole, after cleaning him off with a wet cloth. 

“What are you looking at,” Obi-Wan muttered, Qui-Gon easily catching the hand that half-heartedly tried to push him away.

“You, so something very precious” he cheeked, stealing a kiss before settling back on his knees. “Does it hurt?”

“A little, but it’s a good hurt.”

“Might not be tomorrow.”

“A problem for tomorrow.”

“I think I have some bacta gel, in my room,” Qui-Gon offered, and then laughed as Obi-Wan screwed up his face. “How is that any different from he touching you here with slick.”

“That was arousing, bacta is just clinical.”

“Well, if you decide you need it” Qui-Gon said, brushing a kiss against Obi-Wan’s nose before disposing of the cloth and tucking them both into bed. 

“It’s a shame,” Obi-Wan mused, lying in bed facing his padawan. ‘

“What is?”

“That I won’t get to tug on this again, you seemed to have quite a visceral reaction,” Obi-Wan teased, pulling On Qui-Gon’s braid. 

“Well, you did say I’m destined to grow my hair out. And there’s always the morning,” Qui-Gon grinned, ducking in to kiss Obi-Wan’s chuckle, the pair of them trading increasingly lazy kisses until they both fell asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed, thank you for all your lovely comments, i read and cherish and am spurred on by every one <3


	9. Chapter 9

Obi-Wan was spared from his dreams that night, and he wondered for a moment if that had anything to do with Qui-Gon’s arms around his waist, a large palm spread over his heart, the sated exhaustion he had fallen asleep feeling. 

The day was busy, but they at least had time for a languid start to the morning, Obi-Wan wondering if he would ever grow used to the feeling of being woken by lazy kisses and wandering hands, and deciding that he hoped he would not. 

Qui-Gon’s knighting ceremony was a long affair, and though Yoda had said it would be today, all that really meant was that Qui-Gon was required to ascend to the Tranquility Spire, where he would meditate until the next day. Privately Qui-Gon kissed him goodbye before they left their chambers, publicly he offered Obi-Wan a respectful bow as he headed up to the first level of the tower, many of his peers - most of whom had been knights for years themselves - offered Qui-Gon congratulations and good natured barbs about how long it had taken him to get here. 

It occurred to Obi-Wan, as the day dragged by, how rarely he and Qui-Gon were apart for any length of time, and how much he missed Qui-Gon’s steady presence by his side when he was not there. He was not permitted to see Anakin in the creche when he inquired, the creche master apparently having just made a breakthrough with the boy’s meditation and not wanting anything to break his sudden serenity. 

Bant had left for her next mission, so Obi-Wan found himself wiling away the hours with Quinlan, who was once again in the training salle, and wanting to discuss whether or not it was time for him to take on a new padawan.

“You just don’t want to be the one roped in the next time a sith surfaces,” Obi-Wan teased, blocking a lunge Quinlan made to his right side. 

“I can’t believe you would accuse me of such cowardice,” Quinlan grinned, parrying a few of Obi-Wan’s own strikes, the pair of them trying to work on the slight hole in Quinlan’s left defence. 

“I guess your trip halfway down that hole wasn’t much fun.”

“Why were so many holes in the floor of that place. That’s what I don’t get, it’s not like we were on a space station, where did they even  _ go _ ,” Quinlan huffed, missing a block to his left as they rest their positions. 

“I’ll be sure to ask the queen if I ever see her again,” Obi-Wan replied. “In all seriousness, is there someone you had in mind?”

“The force is nagging me about Aayla Secura,” Quinlan replied, and Obi-Wan had a feeling his friend would have a new apprentice before the week was up. “She’s about to age out, which is ridiculous, she’s very talented.”

“Well then do something about it. Knowing you’re about to age out is not a  _ nice _ feeling,” Obi-Wan pointed out, pulling one of his more acrobatic maneuvers and making Quinlan scowl at him. 

“Yeah you’re probably right.”

“I’m always right.”

“Qui-Gon has been stroking your ego far too much,” Quinlan muttered, laughing at Obi-Wan’s scowl. “And he’s going to be allowed to continue doing so from what I heard. You have my sympathies Kenobi, no break from the youngsters for you.”

“I don’t mind. Anakin deserves more chances than life intended to give him, and as for Qui-Gon well, I’m so used to him being there it would be strange for him not to be,” Obi-Wan said, doing his best to keep his voice casual. 

“You always were soft,” Quinlan laughed, Obi-Wan shrugging helplessly and continuing their sparring session.

Obi-Wan slept fitfully that night - had he really become accustomed to a bed partner in such a short space of time? - and his dreams returned to him, and two night respite apparently too much to ask from the force of late. His dreams were mismatched, before, with the vision of Qui-Gon, things had made sense, followed some kind of sequence, but now from the lines on his own face and the height of Anakin, he could tell that they jumped around with little direction.

Palpatine again, always Palpatine, and otherwise forgettable politician, no better and no worse than all the others. The clones again, on a planet Obi-Wan didn’t recognise, turning on him and attempting to kill him, trying  _ hard _ to kill him. Then he jumped backwards, to fighting hard alongside Obi-Wan, Cody and Rex, many of them dying and Obi-Wan feeling the cold lick of loss every time. He was in an arena of some kind with Anakin and Padmé Amidala, of all people, though it blurred away before he had any hope of understanding why. 

He woke with a start, not from Anakin’s broken body, but from a vision of dead younglings, laying massacred within the temple, the sight making his gut lurch, shocking him out of sleep. He reached out with the force towards the creche, relieved to still be able to fill the force signatures of so many bright young things, but he knew he would not be able to get back to sleep. Only Qui-Gon seemed able to coax him into trying to sleep again, after such visions. 

He had half a mind to wake the council in the middle of the night to report what his dreams had brought him this time, he hadn’t seen Anakin in the vision of the younglings, it made it harder for him to determine how far off it might be, how quickly they needed to guard against it. But he knew it was not immediate, he himself looked so much older than he had as a padawan, that in that dream world, a significant time must have passed since Naboo. 

As soon as the sun came up and life started at the temple though, Obi-Wan did seek out the council, and report what he had seen, a cloud falling over all of their expressions when he spoke of the younglings, his mention of clones all but forgotten in their wake. 

“Slaughtered?”

“Yes master, it was unmistakably a lightsaber that did it,” Obi-Wan said, his skin felt clammy, as if just speaking of what he had seen would make it happen. 

“And they were here?”

“In the temple, yes. I believe we were at war, there didn’t seem to be many masters or knights among the dead. It is difficult, I do not get a clear picture.”

“And these visions feel the same as the ones you had about the sith on Naboo?”

“Yes masters, identical.”

“Look for the other sith, we must,” Yoda hummed, voice grave as a troubled expression crossed his usually inscrutable face. 

“Agreed,” Windu said, the other masters nodding. “Continue to report your visions to us, Master Kenobi, it is difficult to tell how much of them may be truth, but we will be vigilant. For now, prepare for your padawan’s knighting, and try not to let the spectre of the future hang over this day.”

Obi-Wan did his best to shake himself out of what he had seen in his sleep, he had become so used to concealing parts of his dreams from everyone but Qui-Gon, that he was used to a facade of normalcy already. Thankfully, as he headed to the Hall of Knighting a short while later with the council’s masters, his pride for Qui-Gon began to outweigh the horror of what he had seen. 

The ceremony was overly formal, as it always was, and Obi-Wan was a little put out that it was the Grand Master of the order who cut the padawan braid, rather than the padawan’s master themself. He had said once, that it felt far too impersonal to be done by someone who hadn’t raised the padawan, and would never forget the queer look he had recieved from his contemporaries, reminding him that it was not supposed to be personal, and there was not supposed to be attachment. As if the gifting of the braid was somehow  _ impersonal _ , but no one questioned that tradition.

The more often Obi-Wan thought on it, the more he thought that the code was more of a jumble of contradictions than anything else, far more confusing than the will of the force had ever felt to Obi-Wan. Then he would shake himself, and decide that Qui-Gon was merely rubbing off on him. 

Needless to say, Obi-Wan kept his mouth shut as Yoda cut the braid from Qui-Gon, his ridiculously tall padawan having to stoop even from where he was knelt, so that the small green master could reach him properly. 

Everyone clapped when Qui-Gon rose a fully fledged knight of the order, and it was all so impersonal that Obi-Wan abstractly imagined them all giving themselves a pat on the back. 

Qui-Gon was greeted by a veritable wall of friends as he emerged, because where the masters of the order might often be less than fanatical about Qui-Gon, the less serious knights that were his peers nary had a bad thing to say about him, not unlike Obi-Wan himself. Obi-Wan smiled as Qui-Gon was all but carried off for a celebration in the dining hall of some kind. 

“Will Knight Jinn be receiving his own quarters?” Obi-Wan asked suddenly, before the council masters could disperse properly. 

“What do you mean?”

“Well it is customary for a knight to receive his own quarters, away from his master, but it is also customary for a master to live with their padawan. Unless Qui-Gon and I continue to share quarters, then that won’t be possible.”

“Hmm, we hadn’t considered it,” Mundi replied, and Obi-Wan saw his opening, and took it as nonchalantly as he managed. 

“Ask Qui-Gon of course, he may be entirely sick of me by now, but I do not mind continuing to share. He does his fair share of the washing up,” Obi-Wan went for levity, and the other masters smiled, accepting it easily. 

“There are only two bedrooms in your apartment, of course, where would the boy sleep?” 

“There are only two bedrooms in all of the jedi apartments, this is an unprecedented case.”

“Perhaps the living area could be made smaller, a simple divider being put in.”

“Perhaps it is better if the boy does not stay with you at all, he is already more prone to making deeper attachments than other youngling we take on,” Windu interjected, voice judgemental, and Obi-Wan tried not to bristle at it. 

He wanted Anakin to stay with them, it was how padawan learners were trained, helped the training bond form between master and apprentice, helped them to learn how to keep their thoughts clear in downtime, when if left unchecked, the mind could wander to unhelpful places. But, if Anakin stayed with them, he would be unable to keep Qui-Gon in his bed. He would not ask a child to lie for them, not one that was already facing a harder battle than most to grasp jedi ways. 

“There are lots of angles to consider.”

“We will take some time to think of the best course of action,” Windu replied, and that seemed to be the end of it. Obi-Wan resisted the urge to suggest that they give Anakin the spare room, and squash an extra bed into his own bedroom; that he was sure they would see straight through. 

Qui-Gon made it back to him, and their quarters, that evening. He looked a little tired, but happy, and as soon as the doors were closed behind him, he swept Obi-Wan up in his arms and spun him, before returning his feet to the floor with a kiss.

“What an exhausting day,” he smiled, kissing Obi-Wan’s cheek once more for good measure, as if he just couldn’t quite resist the urge. 

“But a good day, I hope.”

“Lots of pomp and tradition, although I found the meditation particularly clarifying.”

“Oh?” Obi-Wan inquired gently, his padawan had always been a natural at meditation, able to clear his mind and sink into a calm, unplagued state with very little effort. What he could manage if he was surrounded by nature was especially impressive, and their mediations together at such times had been some of the most relaxing of Obi-Wan’s life. 

“Yes, the force was very receptive to me, and to you.”

“What do you mean?” Obi-Wan asked, able to run his fingers through Qui-Gon’s hair easily, from where the younger man was stooping slightly to reach him, smiling at the way Qui-Gon leant into the touch. 

“I mean I meditated at length on your and I and our relationship, and in return the force sent me only light and warmth.”

“I am fairly sure you aren’t supposed to meditate on the parts of the code you are breaking and come back so sure you should continue,” Obi-Wan muttered.

“I was told to meditate on the thing that mattered most to me, and I did,” Qui-Gon replied. 

Obi-Wan blushed and smiled and let Qui-Gon take him to bed, enjoying being spread out on the mattress and so thoroughly explored that he was sure there was not a single centimetre of his skin left that Qui-Gon’s lips hadn’t acquainted themselves with. 

“I have something for you,” Qui-Gon said, after, when Obi-Wan was lying exhausted against Qui-Gon’s chest. 

“I’m not sure I could take anything else from you right at this very moment,” Obi-Wan sighed, pleased when Qui-Gon laughed. 

“I am sure you would rise to the challenge master. But no, let me free for a moment,” Qui-Gon requested, and Obi-Wan begrudgingly let him escape his hold, biting at his lip as Qui-Gon reached for a beautiful long thin wooden box from his robes and knelt by the side of the bed. “I have no doubt you expected this, but master, it would be my honour if you would accept my braid.”

“Oh Qui-Gon, the honour is mine,” Obi-Wan smiled leaning forward and kissing Qui-Gon as he took the offered box. 

“I was wondering, if you would let me braid it into your hair,” Qui-Gon asked tentatively, as if there were any chance of him saying no. And that wasn’t exactly  _ impersonal _ either, was it, yet masters all across the temple allowed it. 

“I will cherish it,” Obi-Wan said, and Qui-gon positioned himself behind his former master, cradling him in the vee of his legs, Obi-Wan leaning into his touch as he wove his cut padawan braid into his hair. 

Obi-Wan woke early again the next morning, his dreams showing him both Anakin maimed and the slaughtered younglings, heaving for breath and rushing for the ‘fresher, vomiting bile into the toilet as the smell of burnt flesh lingered in his nose. 

Qui-Gon rubbed his back soothingly, drew him back into bed when he was through, feeling more tired than when he had gone to bed in the first place, but unwilling to sleep again after such visions. Qui-Gon listened when he spoke, was glad he had reported what he had seen to the council, even if they both agreed that leaving Anakin out was for the best. He told Obi-Wan that everything would be okay, and Obi-Wan found a way to believe him. 

They spent the day with Anakin, given a break from his meditations and allowed to join his soon to be masters to work with one of the training droids without the use of his sight. 

“This is dumb,” Anakin complained when he was shot in the leg for a third time, the blast only enough to prick slightly, no real damage being done, but Anakin was not used to failure. 

“Maybe so, but it is also good training,” Obi-Wan replied, moving Anakin’s shoulders into a better stance; he had at least liked being given a training saber. 

“I just keep getting hit.”

“You have to reach out with your feelings Anakin, just like you did in that podrace. Your sight is a valuable sense, but cutting it off forces you to heighten your others,” Qui-Gon explained much more deftly, resetting the droid. 

“I can’t do it,” Anakin protest again, and Obi-Wan turned the boy to face him. 

“Ani, whether you master this today or not does not matter, it is only practice, and you have not been here long. We will still be taking you as our padawan learner, whether you block all the blaster shots, or none, okay?” He tried to reassure, squeezing the boys shoulders, remembering his own drive to be perfect perfect always so perfect, as he had edged closer and closer to aging out. 

“Okay,” Anakin mumbled, nodding his head and looking at least a little reassured. 

“Besides, when Qui-Gon was your age, he got so frustrated with the droids that i am told he tried to stomp off and got shot on the backside,” Obi-Wan mock-whispered, more than loud enough for Qui-Gon to hear. 

“Haha really?” Anakin laughed, looking up at Qui-Gon as if he couldn’t believe it, but wanted to. 

“I really hate these training droids,” Qui-Gon muttered, which was enough of a confession for Anakin, who was still laughing even as the blast visor came back down. 

After a little more training, and Anakin beginning to do a little better at blocking the blasts, Obi-Wan noticed the tell tale signs of a yawn beneath the visor, despite it barely being mid afternoon. 

“Are you alright, Anakin?” He asked, concerned, and bringing the visor up and the droid to a stop. 

“Sorry. I don’t sleep so good.”

“Do you know why?” Qui-Gon asked, pulling the helmet from Anakin’s head and flattening his hair back down. Anakin chewed at his lip nervously, before answering.

“I dream about my mother, and I know I’m not supposed to. Bad dreams. I’m sorry.” He shuffled his feet, and Qui-Gon looked stricken, before surprising Anakin by drawing him in for a close hug, his large frame all but engulfing the boy. 

“Do not apologise for that Anakin, we all have bad dreams. And no one expects you to stop caring about your mother overnight, you can always -  _ always _ \- speak to me or Obi-Wan about her, if you need,” Qui-Gon said fiercely, Anakin’s hands bunching up the fabric of his cloak with how tight he had begun to cling. Qui-Gon would have made an excellent father, Obi-Wan thought, if they’d been different, and their lives would have allowed for such a thing.

He was summoned to the council the next day, he assumed for a mission, only to encounter an entirely different proposition. 

“A joint meditation?”

“Yes, we believe that if master Yoda can connect with your mind, he might be able to glean a clearer picture of what is happening in your visions. Help to piece together what is happening, what the force is warning us will come to pass, what the triggers to these events are, whether they are truly visions of the future,” Windu explained, and Obi-Wan wondered how he was going to speak with the way his throat was closed up. 

How would he keep Anakin from Yoda in such a shared state. How would he keep  _ Qui-Gon _ from him. Obi-Wan had no idea, but was forced not to let his panic show. 

“Of course,” his throat was dry, the words sounded strange to him, but the masters looked on as if everything was normal. “When would you wish to attempt this?”

“Meet in the gardens we will, after late meal,” Yoda said, it meant that Obi-Wan had less than six hours. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope your still enjoying! With any luck the next chapter will land tomorrow <3


	10. Chapter 10

“Obi-Wan, what’s wrong?” Qui-Gon asked as Obi-Wan came into their quarters and immediately started panicking. Qui-Gon didn’t look nearly panicked enough, even when Obi-Wan told him what was happening, instead wrapping his arms around Obi-Wan and holding him tight, a firm wall of calm. 

“Qui-Gon this is serious.”

“I know my love, but please humour me; when did your feelings for me begin to change?”

“I acknowledged them on Corellia, but, ah, it was before. Months before.”

“I wasn’t sure how you felt about me until long after Corellia, and we shared many meditations,” Qui-Gon reminded him, and it reassured Obi-Wan, but only a little.

“Yes but you weren’t deliberately poking around in my head, were you?”

“No, but Yoda will only be looking for the visions in your dreams, he will not be looking for your thoughts of me. And it is a shared meditation, he should only be able to access what you are thinking of in your meditation, so long as you do not bring myself or Anakin to the surface, we will be fine,” Qui-Gon said, his hand playing with the hair on the back of Obi-Wan’s neck.

“If I tell you not to think about droids, what do you think about?”

“True, but we are jedi, we are very good at clearing our minds, and I have no doubt you will succeed,” Qui-Gon said, pressing a kiss to Obi-Wan’s temple. A part of him wished that Qui-Gon would suggest they leave the order again, that he could allow himself to never worry about being discovered, and be swept away instead. But he loved being a jedi, and he could steal that life away from Qui-Gon either. 

“Perhaps you are right. I just fear what will happen to us if we are discovered. What it would cost us.”

“Focus on the here and now, Obi-Wan,” Qui-Gon soothed, tilting up Obi-Wan’s chin to claim a kiss. “You will succeed, and it is like you said, we can have both; our life as jedi, and each other, everything you want. The force has practically conspired to give it to us.”

“That is a nice way of thinking about it,” Obi-Wan murmured. “A little too rosy perhaps, but nice.” It was reassuring, in a way, for him to hear that Qui-Gon also did not wish to give up being a jedi, and it occurred to Obi-Wan, that his knighting may well have changed his outlook, finally having reached the status of fully fledged jedi, and unwilling to now part with it. He tried not to let it make him even more anxious, at the thought that he could ruin it all for Qui-Gon, if he slipped up in meditation with Yoda. 

“I can’t help it if my outlook is especially positive, these days,” Qui-Gon smiled, the way his fingers were tugging gently at Obi-Wan’s hair making him want to stay in his arms forever; at least more literally than usual. 

He forced himself to not appear tense when he met with Yoda that evening, cleared Qui-gon from his mind - a feat that was nearly impossible, with how their bond had thickened and grown in the last few weeks - and centered his thoughts, letting images of Anakin and his former padawan slip from his mind, replaced instead by the other fragments he had seen. 

He succeeded in his endeavours, not letting his relief show as Yoda slipped from his mind, after long hours of the pair of them combing over the things he had seen - the things that he permitted Yoda to examine. 

“Much missing, there is,” Yoda frowned, and Obi-Wan nodded. 

“Yes master.”

“Difficult to make sense of, it is. But of a possible future, I believe you are seeing,” Yoda agreed, he had been surprised, when Obi-Wan had permitted him the sight of Qui-Gon, and seen their positions reversed, but said nothing of it. Dreams and visions were strange places, and the very feel of the dreams were unmistakably real. 

As he left, Obi-Wan agreed to more meditations with Yoda when more visions came, knowing that the extra wisdom could only help him avert this future. At least, the amount of that future that Obi-Wan allowed him to see. 

For months, dreams continued to plague Obi-Wan, he shared them with Qui-Gon always and meditated with Yoda on occasion, but he still struggled to make sense of any of it, and he woke up screaming more often than not. Yoda had no insights, just fresh frowns, a desire for Obi-Wan to see the things that connected the events, the trigger, the lurking sith, the assailant who killed the younglings. 

“How can I expect Yoda to be able to help, when I will not even show him the full picture,” Obi-Wan fretted, tugging at his hair. “What if I am causing this by my own deceit! Deceit is a path to the dark side, we know this, what if we are just kidding ourselves by pretending we are any different.”

“Here,” Qui-Gon said, catching Obi-Wan by the wrist and holding his hand to his heart. “Look into my heart, look into your own. Do you sense any darkness there? I do not, only light and love. I am so full of you and your light that there is no room for anything else.”

“I feel it sometimes, when I am forced to lie,” Obi-Wan admitted, worrying his lip with his teeth, wondering if Qui-gon would think less of him. “When I lie to the council, the small lies I tell other jedi, about our relationship. I feel shame for being deceitful, and that shame makes something dark curdle, something scared fester.”

“It is not our love that makes you feel this way, only the secrets you are forced to keep, because of the council and its unyielding code. It is not you, and it is not us, it is them, Obi-Wan. I have never met anyone as light as you,” Qui-Gon said, and Obi-Wan let himself sink into the words. 

Anakin officially became their padawan, and moved into a room which had been added to their own apartments, reducing the living space but offering them a chance to have Anakin experience life as a padawan as other jedi would. 

Obi-Wan had not slept well when he had first moved in, insisting Qui-Gon return to his old room so that Anakin would not suspect, would not be lured into keeping their secrets for them. But Obi-Wan was waking, wracked from the nightmares, shaking in a cold sweat and sitting with a shout more nights than not. The horrors of a war he didn’t understand, dead jedi everywhere he looked, slaughtered younglings, and Anakin, always Anakin burning alive. It became hard to understand the snatches of new information he saw, so soaked in the images that had come before. 

Qui-Gon felt him wake every time through their ever growing bond, crept through their living quarters and calmed Obi-Wan until his heart was beating at a normal pace again, instead of the jackrabbiting panic that he always woke in. 

“Obi-Wan please, please let me stay in here with you. You sleep better when you are with me, the dreams come but there is more respite from the horrors of them. Please.”

“Anakin- ”

“Anakin grew up in a noisy place, he is difficult to wake. I can make sure that I have returned to my room before he is up in the mornings, please my love, I can’t bear to see you suffer like this.

“Okay,” Obi-Wan agreed, because he was weak, and he had never been adept at saying no to Qui-Gon Jinn, and the arms around him did make him feel safer. 

Qui-Gon was right, the nightmarish parts of his visions still attacked him at night, but there were longer stretches of peace between them, softer parts of the future, more pieces able to fall into place. Two characters recurred in the future, Padmé and Palpatine, over and over he saw them with Anakin. He woke with a start one night not from seeing Anakin burn, but from seeing him choke a pregnant Padmé, her begging Obi-Wan as she died not to give up on Anakin, that there was still good in him. 

“I think…” Obi-Wan trailed off, Qui-Gon’s hand rubbing his back as he always did when Obi-Wan woke badly. “In that future, Anakin and Padmé fall in love, keep it a secret, I think it is part of what...what destroys Anakin.” A silence fell thick between them, until Qui-Gon gently tugged him back down onto the bed and held him close.

“Each person is different. I imagine it would be the deceit, being unable to ask for help, which hurt Anakin, more than love from and for a good person ever could.” 

“You are very grey, Qui,” Obi-Wan laughed so quietly it almost wasn’t there, Qui-Gon kissed the small sound from his lips. 

“It is what makes me so often correct.”

Understanding the relationship between Anakin and Padmé in his dreams helped a number of other things fall into place, and the events he was seeing began to coalesce into a more coherent picture. Anakin chafed against the jedi ways and in parallel, Palpatine amassed more and more power, until he because the Supreme Chancellor, until he became emperor in everything but name. 

Obi-Wan saw the interest Palpatine took in Anakin, saw the way the council distrusted the politician, saw the cruel position it put Anakin in, pushing him to confide more and more in Palpatine. Until finally he saw it, Palpatine and his red blade, the lightning shooting from his fingers, promising Anakin he would not lose Padmé like he lost his mother, if he pledged himself to the dark side. He saw Anakin slaughter the younglings, he saw himself cut down Anakin again, his dream-self confused as to how they had reached this point. 

He sat up in bed more slowly, feeling sick to his stomach from the vision of Anakin hurting the children, but bolstered by the fact that he finally understood more of what was happening. Qui-Gn kissed his shoulder, nosed at the skin there, always so in tune with Obi-Wan, even when he didn’t wake violently. 

“I think Chancellor Palpatine is the sith lord,” Obi-Wan said, his throat feeling dry, Qui-Gon waited for him to elaborate. “All those times I saw him with Anakin, he was grooming him. He already expressed an interest in Anakin after the events of Naboo, I thought he was just politicking, but now…” 

“Now perhaps he lets us raise Anakin, whilst dripping poison into his mind, becoming Anakin’s confidant and exploiting what he learns there.”

“Yes.”

“It is difficult to imagine him as a sith lord.”

“He wears his disguise well,” Obi-Wan agreed.

“How sure are you?”

“I wish to meditate on it, but I am fairly certain. Will you meditate with me?”

“Of course,” Qui-Gon agreed, shifting until they were facing each other on the bed, knees touching. 

He shared his dreams with Qui-Gon, not holding anything back like he did with Yoda, and together they meditated on what Obi-Wan had seen, what they knew of the Chancellor, how they felt in his presence. It was unsociably early by the time they were done, but they agreed that what he had seen could not wait, and Obi-Wan requested an emergency meeting of the council. 

“Chancellor Palpatine is the sith lord?” Mundi asked, confused as Obi-Wan recounted what he had seen to the council. 

“If my visions are to be trusted, then yes, I believe he is,” Obi-Wan replied, hands linked within the large sleeves of his cloak. 

“Even if you are correct, it will be hard to prove,” Mundi shook his head, his look taking on a pensive element as he rubbed at his chin. 

“I am not sure how we would prove it at all,” Obi-Wan admitted, wilting from his recent lack of restful sleep. 

“Meditate with you, I will. Get to the bottom of this,” Yoda said, the rest of the room agreeing that it would be best to wait for Yoda’s confirmation, before proceeding. 

They went to the private room they had been using for all of their meditations together, Obi-Wan less worried, more practiced now at keeping the thoughts he couldn’t risk the other master seeing at bay. They sat together for hours, many of Obi-Wan’s visions now stitching themselves together into a clear story, rather than a jumble of random parts. 

“Skywalker,” Yoda frowned at him when the meditation ceased and Obi-Wan tried to conceal his panic, wondering if he had made a grave mistake by showing Yoda the way Palptain manipulated the boy. 

The actions of Palpatine were so wrapped up in Anakin’s dark future that attempting to prove what he had seen about Palpatine would be impossible while keeping Anakin from it, though he had still hidden the younglings, the true extent of Anakin’s fall. He had thought that the best way to keep Anakin safe would be to make sure Palpatine was dealt with swift and early. 

“Yes master, perhaps my time spent with Anakin has allowed me to see this more clearly, but he is in grave danger from Palpatine, he is attracted to his power.”

“See this, I do,” Yoda agreed, standing and beginning to pace slowly across the room, Obi-Wan forced himself to remain still. 

“It is not Anakin’s fault, master. We must take this warning from the force and not fail him, as we did in that future.”

“More susceptible to the dark side than most, he is,” Yoda frowned. “But preventable, this future should be, so long as dealt with, Palpatine is.”

“I agree,” Obi-Wan said, relief flooding him as it looked like Yoda would not seek Anakin’s expulsion from the order. 

“But dangerous, Skywalker is. Watch him more closely, we shall have to do,” Yoda added, and Obi-Wan held back his argument, knowing how badly Anakin would chafe against that kind of surveillance. He was a perceptive boy, he always knew when people didn’t trust him, when they didn’t like him, and no matter how wise the council thought that they were, Anakin would sense it from them. 

Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon having to report on him would damage their relationship with the boy, risk him thinking that even his own masters did not trust him. But Obi-Wan held his tongue, with any luck he would be able to report that Anakin was doing well and embracing the light enough in the early years of his training, that the council would cease their concerns.

Returning to the council chamber, Yoda reported that he believed what Obi-Wan had seen was still a possible future, and that it heralded the truth about Palpatine, what he as, and the danger he posed. 

“We cannot arrest him without proof, there are precious few tribunals in the galaxy that would accept visions as reason for arrest. We’d turn him into a martyr,” Windu said after a short debate among the masters.

“So what do you suggest?”

“We’ll watch him closely, he’d have no reason to believe we were doing so. And when he makes a mistake that reveals himself, we will act. You will keep an eye on Skywalker, if he shows any signs of straying from the light, you are to report it to us immediately,” Windu said, voice firm. Obi-Wan considered himself lucky, that Windu was not using this as a reason to try and push Anakin from the order entirely. 

“Of course,” Obi-Wan agreed with an incline of his head. 

“If you see anything else in your dreams, specifically, anything that might help us prove Palpatine’s guilt, then report it to us immediately.”

“Naturally,” Obi-Wan replied, keeping the sarcasm out of his voice, wondering if sometimes Windu just spoke to fill up air, rather than because he had something worth saying. 

“There is one other matter to discuss,” Windu continued. “Due to the nature of your visions, your commune with the force, your quick action reporting what you have seen to us, and your calm wisdom in understand what you have seen, as well as your exemplary record of service; ee have decided to offer you a seat on this council.”

“I...what?” Obi-Wan faltered, the idea that he would be offered such a seat absurd given the path of his life of late. 

“You are a loyal jedi, master Kenobi, and accomplished in all aspects of our way of life. You adhere to the letter of the code and respect the rulings of this council, you are the natural choice to fill our empty seat,” Mundi smiled, as if Obi-Wan were being humble, as if his confusion were borne of a place of humility instead of genuine confusion.

To be considered for a seat on the council while Qui-Gon stole into his room every night. To be told he adhered to the code, when he withheld what could be vital parts of his visions to protect those he loved, those he felt  _ attached _ to. If the council knew the truth of his life, they would be expelling him from the order immediately, not offering him a seat in the high council. He had never known he was such a proficient liar. He was glad of it, and disappointed in himself simultaneously. 

A loyal jedi, an example for all to look up to, who had taken a lover - his own padawan at that - lied and concealed parts of his visions at every turn to protect those he loved. He was a ruin to emotion, ruled by it, letting it guide his actions. He felt ignorant in his dreams, stumbling around half understood vistas grappling with what he saw. He had learned passion in the arms of Qui-Gon and he had no intentions of relinquishing it. His thoughts swirled in chaos in this very moment, as he thought of his many secrets, as he broke more rules and justified it to himself over and over. 

But to refuse a seat on the council, from a jedi such as himself, would draw too much attention to him, would make people wonder  _ why _ , and Obi-Wan feared what closer scrutiny would mean for himself, and for Qui-Gon. So he chose hypocrisy instead. 

“It would be my honour.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> <333 chappies will be going up on a nightly basis until we're done now lads, enjoy!


	11. Chapter 11

Qui-Gon was not angry with him, but frustrated to say the least. Knowing his ire at the council would now mean including Obi-Wan in his sweeping statements about them, and the way they governed the order. But he at least understood why Obi-Wan had felt compelled to accept their offer, although he was right when he said that before the relationship between them had changed, Obi-Wan would have gladly accepted a seat on the council. 

He felt nauseated with hypocrisy now, every time he took his seat and listened to mission reports, passed judgements on the actions of others in the order, acted like he was the pinnacle of jedi-kind; if not above reproach, then certainly never likely to incur it, at least. 

It wore on Obi-Wan’s nerves, and he wondered if Qui-Gon was ever going to get tired of soothing him, as he so rightly should by this point in time, when Obi-Wan was beginning to feel like he was taking advantage of Qui-Gon’s kindness. Qui-Gon of course, allayed his guilt whenever Obi-Wan thought to mention it. 

All in all, it was a relief when the three of them were given a mission, blissfully off-world and away from the council, giving all three of them a well needed breath of fresh air from the temple, and Anakin his first real mission as a jedi apprentice. 

“Where are we going?” Anakin asked, vibrating with excitement and asking if he needed to pack anything before they left. 

“Jespet. It’s a mid-rim world, they’ve been experiencing seismic events which they fear are being caused deliberately by a splinter faction from the government, to try and destabilise the Uboth Caves.”

“What are the Uboth Caves?” Anakin asked, frowning when Obi-Wan handed him a datapad with the mission’s information on it. He would have to get used to reading through boring briefings sooner or later. 

“The Jespet government claims that the caves have spiritual importance, which is why so few are permitted entry. But read the mission report Anakin, we have plenty of time before we get there, tell me what you think,” Obi-Wan encouraged, pleased when Anakin found a seat at the small table and started scrolling through the pad, face screwed up in concentration. 

He and Qui-Gon left him to it, both of them having received the briefing the day before, retreating sitting on the other side of the small space that served as a living area on the ship, sitting on the cramped couch - it wouldn’t be cramped, except for the fact that his former padawan was ludicrously overgrown. Qui-Gon laid his hand along the back of the couch under the guise of having nowhere else for it to comfortably go, and toyed with the long hair at the base of Obi-Wan’s neck. After a couple of hours, Anakin walked over to them with the datapad, face thoughtful, and Qui-Gon’s hand stilled, laying flat against the couch instead. 

“The government asked us for help but then the splinter group did too a bit later.”

“Correct.”

“Well why would they have done that if they’re the ones we need to stop.”

“I never said they were the ones we needed to stop. What do you think is going on?”

“Use your feelings, Anakin. We have verified that the caves do have spiritual importance to the Jespet people, remember.”

“Maybe the caves are important, but that's not why the government won’t let anyone in. The splinter group said that they needed help because the government is hiding something in there and using the fact that it’s a special place to stop anyone from finding out.”

“Very good Anakin, I think the same.”

“So what’re we going to do about it.”

“Well, we’re going to ask to see the caves first, though it is unlikely the government will let us in, and it will be difficult to force the matter as the caves have spiritual import. What would you do after that?”

“Maybe go and see the other group? Talk to them as well so that we can see what they think is in there?”

“You’re a natural,” Qui-Gon smiled, laughing when Anakin smiled brightly at him. 

“But you are also very new to all of this. Make sure you are respectful of local customs, and you must do whatever I or Qui-Gon tells you to do, as soon as we tell you to do it. You actions on Naboo were very heroic, Anakin, but there will be no more ‘the ship was on autopilot and you told me to stay in the cockpit’ excuses,” Obi-Wan warned, knowing that Anakin, with all of his endless skill with technology and mechanics, could have easily overridden that fighter. 

“Yes master,” Anakin replied dutifully. 

On the ship that night, Obi-Wan woke with a start, breathing hard, as he usually did these days. Qui-Gon’s hand found his, linked their fingers together, and drew him back down into the bed. He had snuck along the halls after everyone but the pilot was asleep, and joined Obi-Wan in his room. 

“Talk to me, my love,” Qui-Gon said when Obi-Wan stayed quiet, rolling on top of Obi-Wan, bracketing him beneath his larger frame and kissing his lips softly.

“I saw Anakin and Padmé again. I believe they get married in secret. I think that I knew. Or rather, I suspected, and purposefully did not look into it.”

“Why would you do nothing?”

“Because I knew what it was like to be in love, because I knew that losing you had almost destroyed me, and I didn’t want that for Anakin. Because I loved him like a brother, and if I did not look into it, then I would know nothing that needed reporting to the council. I think the secret is part of what eats him alive, turns him to the dark side, he foresees Padmé dying, and does not turn to me for help, because he fears that path also leads to losing either his love, or his life as a jedi.”

“So instead he turns to Palpatine, who tells him he can save her.”

“Yes. Even with Palpatine gone - which he isn’t yet, anyway - I worry where this path would lead him.”

“I could not steer him away from love, not now.”

“Neither could I,” Obi-Wan replied, it would be too much, too much deceit, too selfish, too hypocritical, to tell Anakin he must not, while allowing it for themselves. He voiced the other thought that sat uncomfortably in his chest. “Slaves are not permitted to marry, either.”

“We are not slave masters.”

“No, but we have taken half the name,” Obi-Wan said, and an uneasy silence stretched out between them as they thought on it. 

The mission on Jespet did not make things any easier. It started innocuously enough, with Qui-Gon allowing Anakin to choose and drive their speeder, and Obi-Wan discovering that he did in fact get motion sick, when a lunatic was driving. Which made both Anakin and Qui-Gon laugh at him of course; he physically felt Qui-Gon have to suppress the urge to kiss him down their bond, and that made him a little less sour, at least.

The local government did not let them into the caves, as they predicted, and even Anakin was able to pick up on their shiftiness, the way they felt unsettled in the force. They visited the splinter group next, all brimming with theories on what was being stored in the caves, no consensus on what, but all agreed that it must be  _ something _ . They had accounts of a number of government officials, all involving large sums of money that seemed to have come from thin air. They seemed to be using the mysterious funds for good works on the planet, which the group reckoned was why so many people turned a blind eye and hadn’t pushed for an investigation. 

“You look troubled, Obi-Wan,” Qui-Gon said, joining Obi-Wan in their tent on the second day, they were preparing to return to the government. The splinter group had all but admitted that the seismic activity was their doing, but they had decided not to collect proof, until they got to the bottom of what was really going on in those caves.

“I prefer the word pensive, it’s more dignified,” Obi-Wan replied, letting himself be spun by the waist and kissed thoroughly by his lover.

“Masters, I was wondering - what’re you doing?” Anakin trotted into the room and Obi-Wan froze, Qui-Gon’s forehead still resting against his own, he had no idea if Anakin had come through the tent flap fast enough to see the end of the kiss they had been sharing. 

“Nothing Anakin, I was only reassuring Obi-Wan.”

“Of what?”

“That I wouldn’t let you drive again,” Qui-Gon replied with a tease, chasing off Anakin’s suspicion and replacing it with an easy laugh and undignified ‘hey!’ from the boy. “What was it you wanted?” Qui-Gon asked, ushering Anakin out of the room to go and help him with whatever it was he was stuck on before Obi-Wan had recovered from the shock. 

He wondered if it would be one year or two, or less, before Anakin would see straight through that kind of lie. Because they lied to their apprentice now, apparently. 

They spent two more fruitless days back with the Jespet government, the same few officials blocking their entrance to the caves at every turn, despite the fact that they were willing to undergo the ritual designed to cleanse a visitor and enable them to enter, leaving the three of them certain there was something they were hiding. Anakin offered to sneak inside, their scan of the rock had shown a fissure small enough for a child to slip through and gain access to the huge network of caves, but Anakin was so new to this life, Obi-Wan was loath to let him do something so dangerous alone. 

In the end they didn’t need to, as they received an anonymous tip explaining a time and way to enter the caves undetected by the sophisticated security system that protected them. 

“It could be a trap,” Qui-Gon warned. “A way to have us thrown off-world for going where we were not permitted.”

“It could be,” Obi-Wan agreed. “With any luck if we are caught a gentle force suggestion might be able to save us, but not if it is an planned ambush, you're right.”

“So what do we do?”

“I think the risk is worth it, we need to know what they have in those caves, if it turns out to be nothing, then the government never needs to know that we were there, and we can allay the fears of the splinter group and have them cease their activities,” Qui-Gon replied.

“Well, if there is nothing untoward going on then technically we should hand over the splinter group to the authorities, as they have been committing a crime without good reason,” Obi-Wan corrected. 

“But I like them so much more than the official people,” Anakin complained, though he looked excited to be infiltrating a secure network of caves, at least, Qui-Gon laughed at his admission. 

“Me too, padawan, but I wouldn’t worry, I’ll eat my cloak if there isn’t anything down there that shouldn’t be.”

They left under the cover of night, giving Anakin a crash course on moving stealthily, using the force to cushion your footsteps so that you made no noise at all. He was a fast learner, and moved almost as silently as his masters staying close to Obi-Wan’s side. 

“The instructions they had received led them to an alternate cave entrance, which was not supposed to connect to the Uboth network, but there was reportedly a concealed break in the wall at the back of the tunnel, that an adult would be able to squeeze through. As it had only recently been noticed, the security was far more rudimentary, and Obi-Wan was able to bypass it entirely, the location of the security panel in the rock also pointed out to them. 

“No ambush so far,” Qui-Gon murmured, and they pressed into the cave, feeling along the wall until they came upon a hastily camouflaged large crack in the stone. 

“Will you be able to fit?” Obi-Wan asked Qui-Gon, raising an eyebrow. 

“I’ll manage,” Qui-Gon replied, though him shimmying through the crack a few minutes later - after Anakin and Obi-Wan’s relatively easy slip - was a rather amusing sight that had Anakin giggling into his hand. “Ouch,” Qui-Gon grumbled as he emerged, a couple of scrapes to his skin, cloak ripped in one place. Obi-Wan would kiss his hand better later. 

The cave network was vast, but Obi-Wan had at least managed to extract from the officials a basic blueprint of the layout, under the guise of trying to determine what the goals of the splinter group might be. It would take them hours to search every tunnel, they would be cutting it close before the sun began to rise outside, and the day began to begin in earnest - and risk some of the few authorised individuals finding them down here. 

They searched for two hours, combing through the tunnels and finding only the crystal-like gems laid in the rock, which created a harmonic effect that made the caves sacred to its people. However, as they pushed deeper into the cave, Obi-Wan found a tunnel that wasn’t on the blueprint, and knew that they were on the right track. 

He let Qui-Gon take the lead, bringing up the rear and keeping Anakin safely between them as they crept through the tunnels. Qui-Gon’s breath caught when eventually the tunnel opened out into a large room that connected to the sea, the mouth of the cave opening onto water, and saw inside the room cages filled with people, slave collars around their necks. 

Slavery was deeply illeagl in the republic, and Obi-Wan was glad that this was something they could do something about. Careful steps would not be needed, the people of the planet would be outraged to discover where their extra public funds had been coming from. But still, Obi-Wan had to hold into Anakin’s arm, to stop him from running into the room. 

“I suppose this explains why no one is allowed down here,” Qui-Gon said loudly, as he stepped into the room. The two slavers armed with blasters startled and started shooting, the commotion waking the people trapped in cages. With only two assailants - and tired, unpractised ones at that - using standard blasters, Qui-Gon was able to knock them back with their own fire with just two elegant swishes of his lightsaber. The people in the cages clamoured, and as Qui-Gon secured the slavers with some rope spooled on the makeshift pier, Obi-Wan and Anakin began opening the cages and removing collars. He watched Anakin help them out of their collars and ask if each of them was okay, with fists balled at his sides. 

“I don’t get it, here you freed the slaves, but on Tatooine you wouldn’t,” Anakin said, shuffling his feet as the medical evac took away the trafficked Jespets, while the local law arrested the ring of officials responsible.

“Tatooine is in the outer rim, it isn’t controlled by the republic and slavery is still legal there. We could only free the slaves here because Jespet is part of the republic, and slavery is illegal here. Do you understand?”

“I guess,” Anakin sighed, though he was withdrawn for the rest of the day. 

After they had left the planetary system, they were caught by a lucky shot from a ship hiding in the asteroid belt, perhaps attempting to exact revenge for their profit maker being destroyed, as the ship had all the hallmarks of the outer rim. They won the fight but their ship would need repairs before being able to make the journey back to Coruscant. 

“We could land on Naboo?” Qui-Gon suggested, looking at the astromap. “I am sure the queen wouldn’t mind us landing to repair our ship. 

“And she might cover the costs,” Obi-Wan said wryly. It also had the added benefit of cheering up their melancholy padawan. 

They called on Naboo, and were swiftly granted a space in the royal hangar at theed, the parts and mechanics they would need to quickly repair the ship already waiting for them when they landed. Queen Amidala greeted them, with less of an entourage than usual, but no less make up and dress, to be herself, and without her usual cohort of bodyguards, Obi-Wan thought about how safe she must feel here now the threat to her had ended. 

Obi-Wan thought of Palpatine, who was often on his home planet of Naboo just as often as he was in Coruscant, and wondered if he should warn her of the danger. They had been through enough together that he felt as though he owed her, and from the time they had spent together on Tatooine, and what he had seen in his dreams, he felt that he knew her as well. In the lighter moments of his dreams, he understood that he and Padmé had been friends, good friends, even. 

The council would scorn him for it, but surely, she could be trusted to keep a secret, and he would never forgive himself if he did not warn her to have her guard up around the Chancellor, and some harm befell her. She frowned when he told her, in a quiet moment away from the private dinner she had invited the three of them to, but she was a good queen, and not easy to shake, and understood politics well enough to know why no action could be taken yet. 

“Thank you, master Kenobi, you have been a true friend to the Naboo. I will have him watched, discreetly, when he is here, and avoid being alone with him. I owe you a debt twice over, now.”

“Repay it by calling me Obi-Wan,” he offered, and she smiled at him, recognisably genuine, even under all that white powder.

Aside from the moment Obi-Wan had stolen, Anakin monopolised Padmé’s attention, and she humored him easily, listening with genuine interest about the things he had learned, laughing when he used the force to move a jug of water over to her, when her cup was empty. 

She offered them a place to stay for the night in the palace, to wait until repairs were finished in the morning, and it was a simple thing for Qui-Gon to slip from his room into Obi-Wan’s directly next to one another in the hall. 

In the comfort of the palace - the bed far more luxurious than Obi-Wan was used to - he ended up falling asleep thoroughly exhausted and debauched, but it didn’t stop the way he woke suddenly, breathing heavily, as if it had been himself that Anakin had choked in the dream, rather than Padmé. 

Unable to go back to sleep, and with the sun soon to be rising anyway, Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon made their way down to the kitchens in search of food, fingers lazily linked together. They were surprised, when they found Anakin already sat in the kitchen, rolling an apple between his hands. He looked up when he heard them enter, and Obi-Wan noticed the redness around his eyes, and dashed to his side, crouching by his chair. 

“Anakin, what’s wrong?” Obi-Wan asked, Qui-Gon crouching beside him, brow also creased with worry. 

“I’m sorry I know I should be asleep,” Anakin said, and Obi-Wan felt as though his heart broke along with the crack in Anakin’s voice. 

“Tell us what’s wrong padawan,” Qui-Gon urged.

“I had a dream. About my mother. She was hurt and I wasn’t there to help. I know I’m not supposed to think about her anymore, but she hasn’t got anyone anymore, she’s all alone and I think she’s hurt,” Anakin managed before he broke down into sobs that shook his small frame, hands grabbing onto his clothes as if to stop himself reaching out; as if he had realised that jedi did not seek out physical comfort often. 

Obi-Wan thought, for a split second, how often Shimi used to hug her son, and how many times he had received one since leaving Tatooine, and without further thought pulled Anakin into his arms. His padawan held on tight, his crying growing louder and less controlled as his tears started soaking into the fabric of Obi-Wan’s robes. In his big arms, Qui-Gon could almost encircle them both, and he squeezed them tight.

As Anakin cried in their arms, they shared a desperate look. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> <33 next chappie tomorrow eve


	12. Chapter 12

After Naboo - after their most recent time on Naboo - Obi-Wan made an effort to be more affectionate with Anakin. It was slightly alien to him, even though he had grown more affectionate with Qui-Gon over the last few months, all those interactions were confined to private moments. But still, he made the effort, as did Qui-Gon, and they could both see the change in their padawan, yet nearly every night, Obi-Wan still saw his fall.

“Why am I still seeing it Qui,” Obi-Wan cried into his shoulder one night, knowing he needed to keep quiet, or risk Anakin overhearing them. They were playing a dangerous game and they both knew it, Anakin had already nearly seen them kissing more than once, and it would only get harder as he grew up, but neither of them spoke of it, both unwilling to lose what they had only so recently gained. 

“Perhaps because we have not yet passed that time, it is still in the future. You didn’t stop seeing your vision of me until the event had passed.”

“What if I still see it because I haven’t stopped it?” Obi-Wan worried his lower lip, trying to let the feeling of Qui-Gon’s hands stroking his bare back calm him - because they did, no matter what the code or council claimed, Obi-Wan found more serenity in Qui-Gon’s arms than he ever had alone. 

“I don’t believe that, the council is closing in on Palpatine, now that we know Dooku is involved, and with Padmé’s reports on his movements they are building a better picture. Soon there will be no sith left to try and groom him.”

“Padawan’s fall without the sith to help them. It’s rare, but it happens,” Obi-Wan replied, drawing idle patterns with his fingertips on Qui-Gon’s chest.

“That will not be Anakin’s fate. What could turn him now?”

“He knows the council does not like him, knows some of them would rather see him not trained. I worry that if he and Padmé do fall in love, he will feel like he must keep it a secret, if he believes that many of the council masters are just looking for an excuse to expel him. I worry where that path would lead him.”

“Love is not a path to the dark side, I will never accept this,” Qui-Gon replied, finding Obi-Wan’s lips for a kiss. 

“I know. But we keep our relationship concealed from him, so how can he know that?” Obi-Wan asked, feeling as though he was failing Anakin whatever he did, however he proceeded. 

“But if we tell him, then he will have to lie for us. Could you put a child in that position?”

“No. And I couldn’t risk the possibility that he would reveal us, or make a simple mistake either. I can’t lose you, Qui-Gon. The life we have now, I know it isn’t perfect, that the secrets and hiding are hard, but it's so much more than I ever thought I would be able to have with you.”

“Anything you want, I will gladly give you,” Qui-Gon replied, easing back down from his sitting position when Obi-Wan shifted to settle back in the bedding.

“A council that would not strip us of our ranks if they even suspected what is between us?” Obi-Wan aimed for levity, and knew that he missed when Qui-Gon drew him closer. 

“Well, anything within my power to give you, at least,” Qui-Gon corrected, one of his hands laying heavy and low on Obi-Wan’s wasit. “For example, I could try to tire you out a little, leave you relaxed and sated so that you can get some more sleep.” He offered with a devilish smile, and Obi-Wan knew Qui-Gon could see his blush, even in the dim light. 

“And how would you do that?” Obi-Wan asked, letting himself be easily - happily - led from his more melancholy thoughts. 

“Why don’t you just lie back and not worry about a thing,” Qui-gon replied, pressing Obi-Wan back until he was lying flat, and then pressing kisses against Obi-Wan’s neck. He worked his way down Obi-Wan’s body, and his breath caught when Qui-Gon’s tongue found one of nis nipples and lapped at the bud, teasing it with his teeth and tugging, until it was hard and swollen from his ministrations. 

“Qui-Gon,” Obi-Wan whined, he had been hoping it would sound warning, but he only managed breathless, as Qui-Gon moved on to the other nipple. He had developed a habit for lavishing them with attention ever since he had discovered how sensitive they were, licking and nipping at them until Obi-Wan was writhing and hard.

“Yes my love?” Qui-Gon asked, barely lifting his head, blowing cold air around the wet bud and making Obi-Wan shiver and buck, the beard he was growing scratching deliciously at the sensitive skin.

“Please,” Obi-Wan whimpered as teeth tugged at him, one of Qui-Gon’s large hands coming down and squeezing his cock through his underwear. It was all he could think to say, he wasn’t even sure what he was asking for, but Qui-Gon always seemed to know what he meant. 

He moved his lips, dragging his mouth down Obi-Wan’s stomach, following the little trail of hair that disappeared below his waistband. Instead of pulling his underwear down, Qui-Gon mouthed at Obi-Wan hard cock through the soft material, tented obscenely, sucked on his head through the fabric, leaving Obi-Wan with his head thrown back, muffling his moans in his arm. 

“Qui, please,” Obi-Wan’s voice verged on begging, exactly as he knew his former padawan liked it, and a kiss was placed to Obi-Wan’s hip before his underwear was gently pulled down.

“You’re so desperate already love, I’ve barely touched you yet,” Qui-Gon teased, making Obi-Wan’s face flame with a blush, hips shifting as one of Qui-Gon’s big hands came down to tease at his balls.

“I’m hardly experienced,” Obi-Wan muttered, even though he knew that Qui-Gon loved how responsive he was, how quickly Qui-Gon could make him come if he did certain things, his body still just getting used to Qui-Gon’s touch, even though Qui-Gon’s hands roamed over him almost every night. 

“I like knowing I’m the only one who’s touched you,” Qui-Gon murmured, pressing an open mouthed kiss to the base of Obi-Wan’s cock, licking his way up as Obi-Wan stifled his moans. 

“That’s very -  _ ah _ \- possessive of you, Qui,” Obi-Wan managed, voice getting higher as Qui-Gon’s lips wrapped around the tip of his cock and sucked, tongue swirling, pulling off with a wet noise after a few long moments. 

“Yes,” he agreed. “I do feel possessive over you, you’re mine, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” Obi-Wan sighed as Qui-Gon took him deeper into his mouth, sucking as he pulled up, one hand pumping what wasn’t in his mouth, the other playing with Obi-Wan's balls. “I’m yours.”

Qui-Gon sunk down on him, until all of Obi-Wan’s cock was buried in Qui-Gon’s mouth, his lover’s tongue tracing the vein on the underside as he sucked Obi-Wan fiercely, the hand that was playing with his balls moving back to toy with Obi-Wan’s sensitive hole. Obi-Wan came with a muffled moan as Qui-Gon’s finger pressed just inside him, Qui-gon swallowing everything Obi-Wan gave him easily, sucking him clean until Obi-Wan began to go soft, kissing his way back up Obi-Wan’s body until he found his lips again. 

“I want you,” Obi-Wan whispered, voice fucked out. 

“Hmm, you look a little tired, love,” Qui-Gon smiled, voice far too smug for a jedi. 

“Here,” Obi-Wan mumbled, pulling ineffectually at Qui-Gon, glad when he came willingly, until he was straddling Obi-Wan with a raised brow, his hard cock nearly bumping Obi-Wan’s chin. He urged Qui-Gon further forward until the tip of his cock was resting against his lips. 

“Are you sure?” Qui-Gon asked, but Obi-Wan could taste the precome beading in the slit of his huge cock, he knew how much his old padawan liked this. 

“Yes, just not too deep,” Obi-Wan replied, still struggling to take even half of Qui-Gon’s cock into his mouth and throat, no matter how often he sucked him. 

Qui-Gon smiled, and started gently thrusting his hips in a rhythmic roll, grunting when Obi-Wan sucked a little hard, one of his hands stroking the bottom half of Qui-Gon’s fat cock, the other tugging at his balls. Qui-Gon braced one hand on the headboard and thrust his hips carefully, using Obi-Wan pliant mouth until he pulled back, and came all over Obi-Wan’s chest. 

He tried to frown at his former padawan, but ended up laughing as Qui-Gon apologised, and cleaned him up with his tongue, despite the pair of them both being just as exhausted as Qui-Gon had promised.

The next day Obi-Wan attended the council as he had to do most days he was present in the temple now, and was relieved when the conversation turned to Palpatine. Every day he did not receive a progress report he feared the council had given it up as a wrongfully interpreted dream, even though he knew that they would not, that they took the presence of a sith seriously.

“There is good news,” Mundi reported, his hologram flickering slightly, the man himself out on a distant planet, tracking Dooku. “I have already seen enough to have Dooku remanded into custody, and I have collected enough evidence against him to have him dealt with for good. With any luck he will give up his master, when faced with the consequences to his actions.”

“Furthermore, with the intel we have received from Queen Amidala, we can confirm that Palpatine has been absent from both Naboo and Coruscant, when Master Mundi has seen the hooded sith with Dooku.”

“Is that enough to bring him down, if Dooku is more tight-lipped than we hope?” Obi-Wan asked, a furrow in his brow. “If we alert Palpatine to our movements, or give him a chance to escape us or be acquitted at trial then we may never get the chance again.”

“We do not plan to give him a trial. When we have irrefutable proof Palpatine will be dealt with. He is too dangerous to be kept alive,” Windu replied, and Obi-Wan felt himself pause. It was not the jedi way, to execute without a fair trial - to execute at all - but he thought of his dreams, of Anakin and the future that awaited him, and nodded his assent, hoping that Qui-Gon would understand. 

“So how do we proceed?”

“Masters will be dispatched to help Mundi apprehend Dooku - quietly - even if he doesn’t talk, hopefully he will have some information that incriminates Palpatine somewhere.”

"Who are you dispatching?" Obi-Wan asked, trying to not learn forward in his chair, lest that be interpreted as being too close to what was happened; Windu gave him an infuriatingly inscrutable expression.

"You will remain here, master Kenobi," he said, and for some reason Obi-Wan had expected at least a little increase of respect from the other master when he joined the council, but apparently one padawan frequently called grey, and another that was too old and too powerful and only in the order at all against his wishes, was a little too much for the other master to decide to like him. Obi-Wan decided to be as agreeable as possible to try and counteract it.

"That was not what I asked," he replied, as sweetly as was possible. "I was interested in numbers and who would be absent from the temple, as I have been put in charge of mission rosters." It was a lie, he had wanted to know if he would be able to accompany the mission and Obi-Wan felt suddenly guilty that it had slipped past him so easily, and for such a petty reason; it made him uneasy.

"Have the list sent to you, we will," Yoda said, putting an end to the way Windu was looking at Obi-Wan; too pointed for comfort.

Having been given the responsibility of mission assignments, Obi-Wan felt not guilt in giving himself, Qui-Gon and Anakin a mission to Kashyyyk that looked as though it would last  _ at least  _ a couple of months, which Obi-Wan felt would be a well-earned relief for himself, his lover and their padawan, after so long on Coruscant - even though, in the grand scheme of things, they hadn't been back on Coruscant all that long at all.

Kashyyyk was central enough in the galaxy, and the mission sedate enough, that Obi-Wan was still expected to see to his various council duties, which pulled him away from Qui-Gon and Anakin most evenings of the simple - but lengthy - diplomatic mission attending one of the Wookie festivals. It was nice though, to do his work with the sounds of Anakin teaching Qui-Gon a game involving a ball and four sticks, and then being frustrated when Qui-Gon won. 

He got confirmation, a week into their mission, that Count Dooku had been quietly brought into custody, and tried not to think too deeply on it, when he heard nothing. The parties the wookie’s held were more than enough of a distraction, especially when Anakin got swept up in some hunt for small rodents rumoured to be good luck, leaving Qui-Gon free to pull Obi-Wan into a dance under the stars.

His dreams didn’t stop, it was rare for him to get even a single night without them in the space of a week now, the weariness of long months without enough sleep was beginning to set into his bones. They shifted every now and then, things that he had only seen fleetingly before changing to the main focus, following him for nights at a time until he was forced to see everything in horrifying detail. Because that was what most of it was; horror. Wars and death and betrayals over and over again until Obi-Wan wondered if there was anyone to save him from  _ his _ future. 

It was the clones he finally saw more clearly, finally understanding the conflict that led to their usage, the mystery around their creation. Obi-Wan saw himself in a long war, fighting alongside these men, knowing them, calling them his friends, caring for them, only for them to turn on him, conditioned in a way no one could have expected, kill so many of the jedi. Treated by Sidious as no better than droids, as if they were mindless automatons, even though Obi-Wan knew better, had known them. 

One of the worst things was, that with everything that happened, the jedi, the younglings, Anakin and Padmé; his dream self hadn’t had a moment to spare for the clones, hadn’t even been able to try to help Rex or Cody.

When they were leaving Kashyyyk, away from the noise and the music and the merriment, Anakin had another nightmare, the first night back in space, loud enough that Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon both heard, waking them from their sleep before Obi-Wan’s dreams could do it instead. He was calling out for his mother, Obi-Wan remembered a suspicion his dream self had had, of Anakin slaughtering sand people to reach his mother, only for her to die in his arms. 

The weight on Obi-Wan’s shoulders felt like it was growing with every day, every sign that Anakin’s path had not been changed, and without enough thought, Obi-Wan altered the course of their ship to where he knew Kamino would be. 

“Where are we going?” Qui-Gon asked. 

“I told you about the clones,” Obi-Wan replied, Qui-Gon nodded. “I know where they are. They should -. Well, the timeline isn’t entirely clear to me, but I don’t know if the cloners will have started yet.”

“We can stop them being created?” Qui-Gon asked, Obi-Wan’s grip went tight on the controls, his lover sounded excited at the prospect, he didn’t feel like he had memories of Rex saving his life, of drinking and laughing with Cody. 

“I don’t know. I don’t know if I want that.”

“What do you mean? There can be no clone wars, if there are no clones.”

“And if we fail to stop the separatists becoming militant then all we will have done is left the republic defenceless.”

“You cannot agree with raising an army, that goes against everything that - ”

“It’s not that simple, Qui-Gon.”

“What else is bothering you, about the clones?” Qui-Gon asked, a hand on Obi-Wan’s knee. 

“I feel like I know them. They’re not, not mindless clones to me, they were people I fought with, with names and personalities. I knew them, we saved each others’ lives, we went through hell together. And I know - I do  _ know _ \- that that wasn’t really me, but...”

“But it does not shake the feeling.”

“It wasn’t their fault, what they did, they were programmed, brainwashed, and no one helped them, and then they were enslaved more than anyone else, to the service of the emperor, and there was no one to help them.”

“You feel as though you failed them.”

“Yes,” Obi-Wan admitted, he wondered, when the long list of people he would fail would end, were it not for the force steering trying to help him. 

“You feel as though not allowing them to even  _ be _ in the first place, would be an extension of that betrayal.”

“Yes,” Obi-Wan confirmed, forcing down the tears that were trying to well in his eyes, relenting when Qui-Gon gently pried his hands from their grip on the controls, holding them in their own. 

“All we can do is assess the situation when we reach the planet,” Qui-Gon said. 

They had Anakin stay on the ship, the less he knew about the clone army, the less he might end up saying to the wrong person. They discovered that the clones had been commissioned six months ago, right after Naboo, by Syfo Dias, who had been missing since. The clones had been growing for three. 

He left the cloners with instructions not to let anyone that wasn’t himself, or Qui-Gon near the clones, and to keep a record of even those interactions. Convincing them to remove Fett from their premises was harder, but apparently only half the costs had been paid so far, and the prospect of losing out on such a profit was too much for them. 

“They are very early stage clones, if the council were to know about them now…”

“They might have the order cancelled,” Obi-Wan finished for him. 

“It seems likely, at the very least.”

“I won’t have them destroyed like they mean nothing, are nothing. Besides, what’s another secret at this point,” Obi-Wan’s smile was weak, and Qui-Gon placed a kiss to his forehead, murmuring that he understood, that no life should be destroyed so easily.

When they returned to the temple, it was to news, exceptionally good news, at that. Dooku had made a deal, information on his master, in exchange for his life, and the council had been handed the plans and machinations that would one day lead to the clone wars, and the eradication of the jedi. The proof that Sidious and Palpatine were the same person, was irrefutable. 

Obi-Wan was asked - much to his own surprise - Windu, Fisto, Kolar, and Tiin on the mission to arrest Palpatine. Qui-Gon begged him not to go, but Obi-Wan knew he would rest easier, if he saw it with his own eyes. Palpatine was shocked, caught off-guard, and still Kitt died, Kolar needed to be suspended in a bacta tank, and all of them were dealing with the after-effects of force lightning, a network of scars like the branches of a tree, spread out over Obi-Wan’s chest, reaching up to the base of his neck. 

Tucked away in a private salle, Qui-Gon kissed the ones visible around Obi-Wan’s neck before holding him close. 

“I’m glad he’s dead,”Qui-Gon said, his fingers brushing tenderly at the base of his neck, Obi-Wan tucked in his arms, and Obi-Wan stilled, unable to imagine those words, that sentiment ever leaving Qui-Gon, and scared that it was his fault it had. 

He went from still to frozen, when the door to the salle opened while he was still in Qui-Gon’s arms, but his lover reacted quickly, and tried to look as though he were only inspecting Obi-Wan’s new wound. 

“The mission reports you asked for,” the knight said, handing over a stack of datapads. He didn’t look suspicious, though he had paused in the doorway, if he were to tell anyone what he saw it would be the end of them, he would be the cause of Qui-Gon losing his life with the jedi, Anakin would be without a master that understood, he would have ruined everything. 

“Thank you,” Qui-Gon answered for him as Obi-Wan failed to calm his thoughts. “Master Kenobi has been through a lot these past few days,” Qui-Gon said to the knight, the dismissal clear. When the door was closed again, a warm hand rested around the back of his neck. “Relax love, he didn’t see anything, the council will not know.” he soothed, but Obi-Wan couldn’t help but lean away from the touch, shaken thinking of everything that he could cost Qui-Gon, if he didn’t get a hold of himself. 

Even with Palpatine gone, Obi-Wan woke up in a cold sweat, the memory of Anakin screaming that he hated him ringing in his ears, the smell of his burning flesh filling up his nose, and bile rising in his throat. 

“But it’s not fair!” Anakin shouted the next day, at master Allie. “The wookies gave it to me, it’s mine!”

Master Allie remained calm, offered Anakin no words of comfort as she removed the bracelet from his wrist - he should have been more vigilant, seen it, warned Anakin only to keep it in private - while Anakin fought back tears, standing still but with shaking shoulders as the gift was removed from his wrist and taken away from him. 

By the time he and Qui-Gon found their padawan, his eyes were red and the only thing he had to say was that he missed his mother, before curling towards the wall. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next update tomorrow evening <3


	13. Chapter 13

Months stretched on, leaving Palpatine to be buried in the past, never to have gained his foothold. Obi-Wan got used to his place on the council, his position solidifying, the respect he'd gained from the other masters for his part in thwarting Palpatine making him feel welcome on the council; though with thoughts of Qui-Gon never leaving his head, he knew he would never feel as though he belonged.

He forgot, sometimes, when he was contributing to drawn out conversations about missions and the order, that he was a trespasser here, that his place on the council was a sham. But he was never allowed to forget for long. 

His dreams continued, Obi-Wan remembered the start, when they had been snippets, blissfully short and mostly confused, just snatches of the future. He remembered wishing he would see more, that it would become more clear, that he would know better what awaited, so that he could do more to prevent it. But now they were solid, real as memories, and they hounded him relentlessly almost every night; his failures played out in technicolour detail. The loss of almost everyone he knew. 

It felt so real that sometimes when he woke, he had forgotten that Qui-Gon was alive; the loneliness had never left his dream-self, and Obi-Wan felt it whenever he slept, as if he were missing a limb, a part of his soul. A severed bond that reached out desperately for it’s other half, and was met only with nothingness. It was a cool balm, a quick relief, when Qui-Gon’s arms found him as he shot up from lying in the bed. 

Qui-Gon always fast to wake with him, fast to react, had been every night, since he had realised Obi-Wan sometimes woke, not knowing he was alive, as reality took time to reroot itself in his head. Running so low on restful sleep, Obi-Wan sometimes found he got confused, over what had really happened. Only small things, and Qui-Gon always smoothly covered his slip up; both of them knowing he couldn’t risk being fully examined by the healers, kept their overnight, there would be no way to keep up the ruse that his visions don’t include Anakin turning to the dark side. And Qui-Gon would not be able to sooth him, there would be no kisses to his shoulder, no gentle reminders that he was alive. 

He had been over a month without a night free of the dreams, so weary he could barely keep his shoulder’s up, hardly the proud figure a jedi should be anymore. Once again he sliced through Anakin as he jumped through the air, left him to burn, words of hatred ringing in his ears. He didn’t wake with a start, rarely did anymore, none of it surprised him anymore, he was just resigned. 

But Palpatine was gone, Qui-Gon was alive, the clones were being monitored, Dooku was in a cell, yet still Anakin burned. And he knew, he knew, that it was still destined to happen, because his dreams about the clones had steadily fallen away, his dreams about Dooku had vanished, and Palpatine had disappeared. But still, Anakin burned on Mustafar. 

He sat up in bed, leant raggedly against the headboard, and without permission from his mind, his shoulders began to shake and he started to cry. He thought he could control it, but as soon as the first tears slipped down his face more and more came before he could stop them, within seconds he was sobbing uncontrollably, face buried in his hands. 

Qui-Gon was quick to stir, cradling Obi-Wan to his broad chest. Obi-Wan had never done this before, and he could feel Qui-Gon’s worry, a palpable thing down their bond as Obi-Wan wept openly, shoulder’s heaving. It only got worse as Qui-Gon held him tight to his chest, like his body knew it was safe, safe to be vulnerable just for a moment, only the moment went on, and he couldn’t stop it. Couldn’t catch his breath.

“Obi-Wan, shhh, I have you, I’m here,” Qui-Gon soothed, he was trying to get Obi-Wan to quiet and he knew why. He was being loud, hsi sobs wracking his body, and if he woke Anakin, the boy would run into the room, and he would see them like this, and it would just be another way that Obi-Wan had failed. 

“W-what if it's me? That no matter how hard I try I destroy him? I’m like poison. Maybe I'm the problem, maybe the best thing I could do for Anakin is get far far away from him, so that I can’t hurt him anymore.”

“Oh love,  _ no _ . No you have to listen to me, are you listening?” Qui-Gon asked, he was slotted behind Obi-Wan, a firm wall, immovable, Obi-Wan clung to the fact Qui-Gon was with him, and nodded, even though he was thinking about whether he would destroy Qui-Gon too. “It is not you, I promise it isn’t. Anakin loves you, he loves you like you’re his father, if we leave him now, he will only feel abandoned, do you really think that will steer him towards the light?”

“...W-we?” Obi-Wan asked, voice barely more than a hoarse sniffle.

“I will follow you wherever you go, Obi-Wan, so long as you let me,” Qui-Gon murmured, and Obi-Wan knew he would always let him, he had become selfish, in this last year. Yet another thing a jedi should never be. 

He managed to calm, or at least to quiet, Qui-Gon could still feel the way he shook, still feel the wetness of tears against his neck, the strained breaths he took. But at least he had managed to stop his noise, no more risk of Anakin coming to find out what was wrong. 

When the sun was rising and Obi-Wan still hadn’t managed to stop crying, head feeling like it was filled with cotton, Qui-Gon asked him if he wanted a sedative, and Obi-Wan nodded jerkily, just wanting it to stop. He didn’t dream, while he was on it, and Qui-Gon told everyone he wasn’t feeling well, because like Obi-Wan said; what was one more lie at this point.

After that episode, the only thing that changed was the extra worry Qui-Gon paid him, and Obi-Wan felt guilty about that too.

He was sent to the infirmary by Yoda on more than one occasion, given the dark circles around his eyes, his clear fatigue, and given a concoction to suppress his dreams on some nights - but only some nights, of course, the council did not want to lose their window into the future - so that he could get full nights’ rest at least a couple of times a week. 

But Obi-Wan dared not take it, lest that night be the one he might’ve seen something that could finally help Anakin. Saving him from burning as Obi-Wan’s dreams insisted to him that he was still destined to do. 

There were new visions also, of a man in a mask that had to breath for him, a red saber. He saw himself die once, and it would have been a relief, were it not for the fact that he knew the man behind the mask was Anakin, his destroyed apprentice, yet more proof of his failure to save him.

During the day, Anakin chafed against his training, against the jedi ways, and pushed back in ways that Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon would have let pass, but the council, with its close scrutiny of their apprentice, would not. He tried to grow his hair out - just to see if he was allowed - and was made to cut all but his braid, He made harmless, tiny changes to his robes, and was made to unpick them. He skipped some remedial classes - usually meditation - to go and fix speeders instead - a more effective form of meditation to him for anyone who cared enough to really look. 

The one that Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon never corrected, but other jedi did, jedi that weren’t thinking and wanted everyone to fit into the same mould, was that Anakin hated using the title master, would avoid saying it, more and more every day. He used to say it, occasionally, now he soured every time it was demanded of him. Obi-Wan wondered, did these other jedi think their padawan was forgetful, or insolent? Had they so quickly forgotten where he came from. 

It shouldn't have come as a surprise, when Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon were summoned to the council chambers to discuss their padawan - though Obi-Wan thought it was a little rude to be summoned, when he was a member of the council himself. 

“Some concerns have been raised about Skywalker, and how he is adjusting to temple life,” Mundi started, and the scrutiny of all the assembled masters weighed even more heavily on Obi-Wan than it usually did, and extra weight around his tired neck. 

“Bringing a child of his age into the order has its unique challenges, but we are working through them. You had to have expected that the adjustment period would not be fast, but Anakin is excelling in all of his studies and learning quickly,” Qui-Gon spoke when he sensed Obi-Wan wasn’t going to, his hands were clasped behind his back. 

“When he attends his classes, that is,” Windu said, with no small amount of scorn.

“Anakin finds meditation frustrating, especially in the remedial creche classes, but he also meditates with myself and master Kenobi, where he has much more success.” 

“And what of his desires to keep every trinket he comes across?”

“I don’t think we should worry about these small things, we all have the odd trinket or two which holds meaning for us.”

“But this is not the odd trinket, he accepts and attempts to keep everything he is offered.”

“Outbursts, he has, filled with anger, he is,”Yoda shook his head, and Obi-Wan couldn’t help the short, hysterical laugh that pushed its way past his lips, making every master’s attention shift to him. 

“Do you have something to say, master Kenobi?”

“No. It’s just, what did you  _ expect _ ? That he would be like any other padawan within the month?”

“Kenobi - ” Windu started, but it was just like that night, when one tear slipped free and he hadn’t been able to stop the rest, and words started to fall from him unbidden and unchecked.

“We took a slave and told him he was free, then we told him how he must have his hair, what he must wear, that he cannot form personal relationships, that he will have no material wealth, that he cannot marry. We told him to call us masters and we left his mother to die a slave! It’s no surprise, really, that no matter what I do I can’t stop seeing - ” Obi-Wan stopped himself abruptly, realised what he was saying a second too late as the dam broke. The damage was done, he could see it in the eyes of the council, and decided to look at the floor instead. 

“You have never mentioned Anakin when we have spoken of your visions, beyond seeing him being trained,” Mundi said carefully. “Have you been keeping something from us?”

“Yes,” Obi-Wan said, voice lifeless, if only they knew the extent of it. Claiming there had been nothing would do him no good now, only make them dig, and if he let them, they might discover the extent of his lies, and destroy Qui-Gon, as well as himself and Anakin. 

“What have you seen?” Windu’s voice brokered no room for argument, reminding Obi-Wan, faintly, of the tone he had used with Palpatine, when they cornered him. 

“Anakin falling to the dark side,” Obi-Wan replied, resigned, a sharp gasp emanated from most of the masters present, it would have been comical, were it not for the situation. 

“Obi-Wan - ” Qui-Gon was startled, reaching out for just a second before he remembered himself, with any luck, everyone just believed he was equally as surprised.

“You saw  _ what _ ? When was this, before or after you petitioned this council for him to be trained?”

“It doesn’t matter! I also saw Qui-Gon dying! But I prevented that fate, you cannot judge him for a fate that has not befallen him yet!” Obi-Wan’s voice was raised, too raised for the council chamber, too uncontrolled, he was so tried he felt like he was fraying at the seams, and now everyone could see it too.

“You saw what?” Windu’s voice was sharp, Obi-Wan remembered suddenly that he had never told the council that either. His head was so muddy and slow from his lack of sleep, he barely remembered his own lies. 

“I saw Qui-Gon die at the hands of the sith on Naboo, but he didn’t, fates can be changed, Anakin can be saved as well if you just give him the chance, give him the freedom he needs now so that he understands that he  _ is _ free. He is suffocating, he just needs to be allowed to  _ breathe _ , we can save him,” his voice was breaking, but he was glad that he didn’t cry, as if he had used up all his tears that night, and just didn’t have any left. “Perhaps if we freed his mother, things would change, he dreams of her in that awful place, I think - ”

“We cannot free slaves on the outer rim where the practice is legal, and even if we did, jedi must shun all personal attachments, he would never see her, it would be pointless. Furthermore - ”

“Pointless?” Obi-Wan near shouted, wondering how the jedi, claiming to be such a force for good, could make such a throwaway comment. 

“Master Kenobi, you kept information from this council, information that could prove vital to the safety of this order and this republic, and you offer no good reason why you did this?” Windu’s voice was stern, Obi-Wan could scream at the way he was entirely missing the point that mattered. 

Perhaps he did do it for attachment, but somewhere along the way, between Qui-Gon’s arms and Anakin’s laughter, he had decided that that was a good enough reason.

“No good reason?” Obi-Wan sounded hysterical, even to his own ears. “I didn’t want him turned out and abandoned!”

“Master Kenobi,” Windu raised his voice. “Calm yourself.” He ordered, and Obi-Wan at least managed to stop any more words, his shoulder sagging, energy leaving him as quickly as the fight did, more exhausted than he had been before.

“Masters, Obi-Wan is very sleep deprived of late, perhaps it would be wise for this to continue later, when we are all thinking more clearly,” Qui-Gon reasoned, it almost shocked Obi-Wan - had he had the energy required to summon shock - that he was the one shouting, while Qui-Gon remained placid in the face of the council. 

“You will return to this chamber tomorrow morning, you will rest with the sleeping remedy the healers provided you, and we will discuss the repercussions of your actions.”

“Don’t punish Anakin, not for my mistakes, please, he is not that person yet he just needs , he just needs - ” Obi-Wan tried, but the truth was, he wasn’t sure what Anakin needed, had exhausted himself trying to figure it out. He was almost grateful, when Windu interrupted him again. 

“This matter is closed until the morning. Return to your quarters.”

They left the chambers, Qui-Gon’s hand falling comfortingly to the small of his back as soon as they were away from the council, Obi-Wan relieved when he at least held his words until the door to their quarters closed behind them. 

“Obi-Wan you have to let me help you,” Qui-Gon pleaded, wrapping Obi-Wan up in his arms, feeling like he was the only thing propping Obi-Wan up. “Tell me what I can do.”

“I don’t know, I don’t know what to do. I might have just destroyed everything for Anakin anyway because I can barely control myself these days. It just feels as though everything is slipping through my fingers and I don’t know how to stop any of it, I don’t know how to help anyone. I just keep failing him and you over and over again.”

“How do you think you are failing me, Obi-Wan?” Qui-Gon asked, one hand rubbing circles between Obi-Wan’s shoulders.

“I make you keep secrets. You’re risking your future for me. You haven’t got a full nights sleep in months because of me. You spend most of your time looking after me, I’ve become such a - ”

“Let me stop you there, love. As far as I am concerned, you are my future, I am happy to keep us a secret, because I know how much you value your place in the jedi, it is not a chore for me to help you have everything you want. And if our roles were reversed, and I were the one plagued by these visions, would you wake with me and hold me until I felt better.”

“Of course I would. But I know it is wearing on you.”

“It is not looking after you that wears on me. I would give anything, to not see you in such pain.”

“It still isn’t fair to you, I’m not being fair to you.”

“Love please believe me, you are not a burden.”

“Okay,” Obi-Wan agreed, he didn’t believe it, but he was too tired to argue. He got the feeling through their bond, that Qui-Gon knew that he didn’t believe it

“Come with me, let's go to bed.”

“It’s the middle of the day.”

“You need to sleep, and I am going to stay next to you while you do,” Qui-Gon said, leading them both back to Obi-Wan’s bedroom. He fed Obi-Wan the concoction from the healers than helped Obi-Wan into some more comfortable clothes and tucked him into bed, before sitting on top of the covers next to him, getting out some datapads to read and holding him his arm, inviting Obi-Wan to cuddle into his hip. “Better?”

“Yes,” Obi-Wan replied, the remedy making his weariness pull him down to sleep. 

Qui-Gon started reading from his datapads, his voice lulling Obi-Wan closer to sleep with every word.

“I wish, more than anything, that I knew how to save him. I just want Anakin to be safe,” Obi-Wan admitted as he fell asleep, selfishly glad that he knew nothing but oblivion would greet him. 

He slept through until the next morning, and it appeared that Qui-Gon had only moved to make himself more comfortable in the bed, Obi-Wan could barely even spare a thought for what he had told their padawan. The uninterrupted rest had left Obi-Wan feeling disorientated, and his weariness was more than one long sleep could fix, but he felt a little better, at least, more in control of himself, than he had before. Qui-Gon kissed him, when he noticed Obi-Wan was awake, reminded him that he loved him. 

“Are you alright?” Obi-Wan asked, sensing something unsettled down their bond, a feeling he used to only get before Qui-Gon did something particularly reckless. 

“Of course,” Qui-Gon smiled, and Obi-Wan knew that he was the liar between them, far more than Qui-Gon ever would be, and that he must be mistaken. His senses were hardly reliable at the moment. 

It helped, as he was readying himself to face the council again, that he felt that he was at least in enough control of himself not to blurt any more unwanted secrets out. Perhaps he would manage some damage control, protect Anakin from his failings, at least.

They were barely out of their rooms when Qui-Gon stopped and said he needed run an errand on the lower levels, squeezing Obi-Wan’s hand, even though they were in the middle of a not-empty hallway. He promised Obi-Wan he would not be late, teasing about his longer legs, but when it was time for them to enter the chambers, he still had not appeared. 

The council were unhappy about it, but Obi-Wan pointed out that he was no longer Qui-Gon’s master, and could not be held responsible for his actions any longer. Windu’s jaw had visibly tightened, but Obi-Wan was right. 

He tried not to wonder where Qui-Gon had gone, an insidious voice in the back of his head saying that Obi-Wan had finally become too much for him, carried too much baggage, wasn’t worth the risk to his future with the jedi, or the burden on his time and energy. 

He was suspended from the council, it had been obvious that he had seen Anakin’s fate long ago, now that it was known to them, and the omission would not be forgiven easily. He endured a lecture on attachment, on how he had potentially endangered everyone in the republic by bringing the boy dishonestly into the fold, but not reporting Anakin’s part in his visions as soon as he saw him. 

Yoda’s voice was grave, when he asked Obi-Wan if he had shielded Anakin from him, during their shared meditations, Obi-Wan found he didn’t have the energy to lie about 

He tried to get them to look past his own deceit, it was not what was important here, what mattered was saving Anakin, doing everything in their power to help him away from the dark. But they barely acknowledged Anakin at all, and every time Obi-Wan tried to turn their attention, the word  _ attachment _ was hissed and the lecture removed.

By the time he was dismissed from the council chambers, he was exhausted, but the council hadn’t yet stripped him of his rank, or expelled him from the order. Though it was made clear to him that it still could be, that they had not finished deliberating yet. Obi-Wan half thought the best thing would be for him to be expelled, sent away from Anakin, where he could do the boy no harm. 

He discovered later in the day, that Qui-Gon had taken a ship without authorisation, and left. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter will prolly be tomorrow eve but i dont wanna make a promise as it isnt written yet! I hope you're all still enjoying!


	14. Chapter 14

Obi-Wan had no idea where Qui-Gon had gone. 

“Was it something I did?” Anakin asked, chewing at his lip. The council still had not decided what to do about him, and Obi-Wan had decided not to worry him by telling him what was happening, on the off-chance the council did nothing, knowing what Obi-Wan had seen might only cause the boy more strife.

“No Anakin,” Obi-Wan replied, squeezing his shoulder. 

“I know I’ve not been good. I can do better, I can - ”

“Anakin, stop,” Obi-Wan replied, Anakin had grown a lot in the last year, but he still crouched down to be on his level to speak. “Listen to me, I am not sure where Qui-Gon is, but he has not abandoned us, he wouldn’t do that, I promise.”

“What if he doesn’t come back.”

“Then we will be okay, because I will never leave you, Anakin, you will always have a home with me. Do you understand?” Obi-Wan asked, relieved when Anakin nodded, though he was still picking at his robes, threading a hem badly; Obi-Wan didn’t stop him.

“But what about you?”

“What do you mean?”

“Who will look after you, master? I know you have nightmares and I know Qui-Gon helps you with them.”

“You know he helps me with them?” Obi-Wan said, dumbly, looking at his apprentice who wasn’t looking at him, but he nodded again. 

“I know he stays with you. I’m not supposed to know that, am I?”

“We tried to keep our relationship apart from you. You must know by now, it isn’t allowed.”

“That’s why I didn’t tell anyone. I didn’t want you to get into trouble.”

“Thank you, Anakin, but I’m so sorry, we never meant to make you be deceptive for us,” Obi-wan replied, Anakin still studying the corner of his clothes, and he shrugged.

“I like that you love each other.”

“Why’s that?” Obi-Wan asked, genuinely bewildered, glad when Anakin finally looked up at him. 

“Because you’re in love, even though it's against the rules. But you’re still good jedi, the best. Sometimes when I’m in classes, the other masters make it sound like if I can’t do everything just right and obey every part of the code, then something awful is going to happen, and I’m going to end up using the dark side. But you two break the code, and you love each other even though it isn’t allowed, but you don’t use the dark side, so that’s not true, is it?”

“No Ani, that’s not true,” Obi-Wan agreed, and he tugged his padawan in for a hug - Qui-Gon was better than he was at this, more natural, his movements not rigid and awkward, but Qui-Gon wasn’t here, and he knew by now when his padawan needed comfort. “I am sorry they ever made you feel that way.”

“I was scared, until I worked it out about you and Qui-Gon. I hope he isn’t gone long.”

“Me too, padawan, me too,” Obi-Wan sighed, waiting until Anakin pulled away to end their hug. 

As the days passed, the council grew more and more irate at the unauthorised absence of Qui-Gon, a ship, and - Obi-Wan discovered - no small amount of valuable items that the jedi weren’t officially allowed to own. Things that it was deemed would be disrespectful during delicate negotiations to refuse, and stored until a use could be found of them, belonging to the order, rather than an individual. 

His former padawan had disabled the tracking beacon on the ship, and he’d covered his tracks, meaning it would require an investment of resources that the council were not ready to expend to locate him. Obi-Wan was interrogated by the council - though he was sure they would not call it that - twice about Qui-Gon’s location. Apparently when you were marked as deceitful, a simple ‘I don’t know’ ceased to suffice. 

Obi-Wan began to realise, that if he did not return soon, and with a good explanation, Qui-Gon was running the risk of losing his knighthood. The thought panicked him, he was sure he could not stay here without Qui-Gon, he wouldn't know how, he was struggling even now with his dreams, devoid of rest and without Qui-Gon to comfort him. 

There had been one night, when without Qui-Gon’s arms to greet him, the belief that he was dead had lingered longer than ever before, until he had stumbled out of bed, awash with tears, to get to the ‘fresher, and it wasn’t until he had seen the third toothbrush at the basin, that he’d remembered. 

He missed Qui-Gon so badly he understood why the jedi were so scared of their own feelings of love. It was overwhelming, would be so easy to drown beneath, so easy to turn to despair and rage if anything should happen to him. But Obi-Wan clung to their bond, so much thicker and stronger than it was supposed to be, and a part of him could feel Qui-Gon, even when he was this far away; feel him alive, feel him determined but unharmed. Feel the longing that answered his own. 

He never took the remedy for his dreams, going nearly without rest every night, just in case they showed him Qui-Gon, where he was, what he was doing, how they could find him. Anakin stayed close, and his behaviour improved but Obi-Wan didn’t like it, he understood that it was bred from fear, the same way he had tried to be the model jedi, when his 13th birthday had begun to approach, and he had still been masterless.

The council, on the other hand, were pleased to see this change in behaviour, started putting down Anakin’s waywardness to Qui-Gon’s influence, rather than acknowledging the past he came from. Obi-Wan hated it, missed Anakin’s personality, his excitement over the smallest things, his delight at anything new, his wonder. It made Obi-Wan feel wrong just to see, feel like he was failing, like this would be how he failed; by trying to force Anakin into a mould that he did not fit - and what could alienate someone more, than knowing he didn’t belong. 

He had promised Anakin he would be a jedi, he didn’t want to break his promise. But he wondered now if that was a promise made in naivety on both their parts, if a new promise might not be better: that he would train him to be good and strong, that he would never leave him alone in this life. Perhaps they both - all three - would be happier if the first was a promise he broke. 

But the life of a jedi was all Obi-Wan had ever wanted to be, more importantly, it was all he had ever known. The idea of forging out into the world as something else, having to discover a new version of Obi-Wan Kenobi this late in his life, terrified him. He had learned by now that he was a coward, even if he wished it wasn’t true, and so he kept the thought of leaving to himself; not that Qui-Gon was here to hear it anyway. 

In the end, it was only a fortnight before Qui-Gon returned, although it felt like much longer. Ankain brought him tea when he heard him wake, and it was sweet of him, in such stark relief against what always woke him from his dreams that it made bile rise in this throat, wondering how he would manage to destroy such a kind boy. 

The message came through a private datalink one evening, encrypted and untraceable, the words encoded, even if the council had intercepted the message, they wouldn’t be able to read it. It deciphered to a time and a place, and to bring Anakin with him, there was no question of who it was from, and Obi-Wan felt the tightness in his chest ease a little, at just knowing Qui-Gon was near. 

He couldn’t help but feel that he should have known, when they arrived at the place Qui-Gon had given, and a door to a small house opened, revealing Shimi standing alongside Qui-Gon, like he would have figured out what Qui-Gon was doing if he hadn’t been so tired. 

Anakin’s reaction was as immediate as it was electric, throwing himself into his mother’s arms and bursting into tears, clinging to her with such relief and desperation, that Obi-Wan wondered if they had been wrong to take Anakin in the first place, or only wrong to separate them. With a hand on his elbow, Qui-Gon steered him into the only other room in the small house.

“I’m sorry, I know I should have told you where I was going, but I was worried you would try to stop me,” Qui-Gon explained, he looked as if he thought Obi-Wan would be angry with him, face betraying a gentle kind of surprise when Obi-Wan sunk into him instead, relieved to be gathered back in those arms. 

“You have done a good thing, Qui-Gon. It was a nice thing to do for Anakin, though I don’t know how we are going to keep her presence here concealed from the order, we need to be so careful or we’re going to lose our place here.”

“I didn’t do it for Anakin,” Qui-Gon replied softly, carding his fingers through Obi-Wan’s hair. “Of course I knew that it would help him, and I want to help him, but I did it for you, Obi-Wan. He needs his mother, we both know it, from all you have shared with me, it is her absence, not your presence, that hurts him. I freed Shimi and brought her here because you are struggling, and you need to be able to sleep, and you need this weight - that should never have been your burden - lifted from your shoulders.”

“Thank you,” Obi-Wan whispered. “I don’t know - I don’t know what we are going to do, how we are going to keep this a secret and remain a part of the jedi, but we will find a way. I think you may have saved us both.”

In the adjacent room, Obi-Wan could hear Anakin talking at the speed of light to his mother, about all of the things he had done, seen and achieved, showing her some of the things he had learned. It was a soothing noise.

“I would do anything for you, my love. I was going to wait until tomorrow to return to the temple. I wanted some time with you, away from that place and its rules. But it’s late, later than i intended, and I know you’re tired.”

“I’m always tired,” Obi-Wan smiled weakly, a hope growing in his chest that that might change, that with Shimi, Qui-Gon might have freed his nights as well.

“We can sleep, I’ve missed holding you. I want to know if your dreams have stopped tonight, like they did with the clones. If this has been enough, so that I know tomorrow.”

“I think they will be,” Obi-Wan said, filled with hope for the first time in a long time, smiling as Qui-Gon told Shimi and Anakin that they were going to get some rest, and they tucked down together on the small bed.

Obi-Wan fell to sleep with a smile on his face, and woke with a scream that turned into desperate tears, as the smell of burning flesh wouldn’t leave his nose. 

“Oh Obi-Wan, shhh, I’m so sorry. I’m  _ so _ sorry,” Qui-Gon’s voice was as soft as his hands, holding Obi-Wan tight. 

“I don’t understand. Why didn’t it work, why didn’t - why is it still happening,” Obi-Wan cried, not worried, for the first time, about being overheard. It left him feeling more exposed and raw than he had ever allowed himself before. He was shaking violently, he hadn’t seen anything new, but he had been so sure the visions would be gone, it had been almost like the first time.

“I don’t know, I don’t know, love, but I will find a way to stop them, I promise. I promise I will help you,” Qui-Gon said, rocking Obi-Wan in his arms. 

He didn’t get back to sleep, barely stopped shaking, neither of them did. Shimi asked him if he was okay in the morning, as Anakin made him tea, he did his best to reassure them, but his voice was thin and weak, even to his own ears. Shimi stayed at the house while the three of them returned to the temple, Obi-Wan saw Qui-Gon and Anakin speaking together in hushed voices as he sorted out his appearance for the day - though there was nothing he could do about the dark circles under his eyes, the new lines on his face - he wondered if Anakin was finally asking what he dreamed about. He hoped Qui-Gon lied, if that was what he asked. 

They had been back in the temple less than an hour, when the summons arrived, for all three of them; being seen re-entering the temple with Qui-Gon after his absence had no doubt incriminated him, and perhaps they had finally made their decision on Anakin. Obi-Wan was almost too tired to be able to fret over it all, but only almost. 

“Whatever happens today, I want you to remember that I love you, that everything I do, is for you,” Qui-Gon said before they left their room, pressing a lingering kiss to Obi-Wan’s lips as Anakin screwed his face up as children did, when they saw adults kissing. 

The council did not bother with a gentle lead in, every face stern, except Yoda’s, which was etched with disappointment instead. His disappointment could never match up to the way Obi-Wan felt about the council. 

“Knight Jinn, you know why you are here. We are hoping, for your sake, that there is a good explanation for your commandeering of a ship and temple belongings for two weeks, with neither leave nor reason for doing so,” Windu started, Anakin was stood in front og Qui-Gon, his hands on the boy’s shoulders. Obi-Wan was close beside him, tired enough to be almost listing into his warmth, having to concentrate on holding himself straight.

“I took a ship to Tatooine, freed Shimi Skywalker, and brought her here. She is in Coruscant now, about a half hour walk away,” Qui-Gon said simply, and Obi-Wan froze. 

He had thought they were going to conceal her presence, that Qui-Gon was going to make up some kind of excuse for where he had been to try and retain his place in the order. He hadn’t asked because he thought he knew, because his mind was hardly working fast enough to fabricate lies, he had planned to only agree with what Qui-Gon said, but here Qui-Gon was, tossing aside his knighthood, his place in the jedi at all. 

“You did  _ what _ .”

“It is clear to me, that this council had no interest in understanding why Anakin was struggling, or why he might fall, let alone doing anything constructive to help him. When you made us both his masters, broken tradition in that small way, I had hoped it would be a sign of things to come, that you would be flexible with him, but it is clear now that I was wrong.”

“Jedi cannot have attachments, we have no family but the jedi, it is the way it needs to be to keep us in the light, as the code states, it must be this way.”

“No. The code is not the will of the force, it is the will of this council. It is rigid and produces jedi that are more scared of their own natural emotions than they are of a sith. It is not infallible, and in this instance, it is wrong,” Qui-Gon replied, his voice firm and sure as Obi-Wan’s heart felt as though it was going to beat out of his chest. 

“Knight Jinn, this council cannot abide - ” 

“Pardon me, master Windu, but I was not finished. Love is not the enemy of the light, fear of love, though, that might be. Or a desire to bury love, or keep it secret because of arbitrary strictures and rules, that is the enemy of the light. I have often heard jedi, including yourselves, calling me grey; perhaps it is meant as an insult, but I do not view it as such. I am a grey jedi, I do not wish to fear my feelings, I will not leave them to fester in secret shadows, for that is where the dark truly grows. I also do not wish the boy to fear his emotions, to fear the love he feels, this will be what destroys him, as much as any sith whispering in his ear. 

“I am leaving the order, I will take Anakin with me, you are welcome to check in on us, but I will train him in a way better suited to his unique needs. I will not make a sordid secret of love,” Qui-Gon finished softly, he didn’t lift his eyes to Obi-Wan’s, did not expose his master to the council, despite the way he longed through their bond. 

He felt, for a desperate moment, like he was being abandoned after all, that Qui-Gon knew that really, Anakin needed to be rescued from Obi-Wan, and that if Obi-Wan wished to stay with the jedi, then Anakin could not be there. But then Qui-Gon’s words that morning rang in his ears and he knew that Qui-Gon was not pulling away, he was offering his hand, in the warm light of day, and all Obi-Wan had to do was take it.

Obi-Wan realised with a start, that Qui-Gon hadn’t told him of his plan because he was not sure where Obi-Wan’s loyalties - where his love and devotion - lay, as if there could be any doubt left. He felt guilty, that he had made Qui-Gon wonder, not let him be sure; he regretted every time he had fretted about how they would stay in the order. 

Obi-Wan unhooked his lightsaber from his belt, carefully, but without a backwards thought, and held it in front of him in his hands.

“We have been lovers for some time. I have never felt closer to the light than in Qui-Gon Jinn’s arms, never closer to the dark, than when your rules forced me into deceit. I wish to let go of the dark, not the light,” Obi-Wan said quietly, offering his lightsaber to Master Windu, his face slack with shock. 

He returned to Qui-Gon’s side, and when Qui-Gon’s hand reached for his, he let their fingers tangle together, releasing out a shaky breath of air, steeling himself for whatever would come next. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just the epilogue to go, should appear tomorrow! I hope you've enjoyed the ride :)


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We made it!

Obi-Wan barely remembered the rest of the meeting, though he knew he had clung to Qui-Gon’s hand throughout. Jedi masters did not shout or get truly angry - or at least, they claimed not to - but there was something red and tense that built in the force in that room. 

They tried to claim that they could not take Anakin with them, when he protested, there were mutterings that he was too young to be able to make the decision, that he was too dangerous to be out of their sight, and the boy’s panic was palpable. The tension in the room rose again when Qui-Gon had calmly asked if Anakin was a prisoner, and if he really had never been freed at all. 

They had no choice but to concede in the end, and there was little they could do to reprimand either of them, as they had all three decided to leave first. There was nothing for the council to do, except fume whilst pretending not to fume. They had been ordered to provide the temple with their location so that checks could be made periodically, Qui-Gon reminded the council that they were private citizens now, and no demands could be made of them; but that if they called ahead, he would make sure to have a pot of tea brewing. Obi-Wan could almost hear Windu grinding his teeth. 

They returned to their quarters and took what little they had had quickly, eager to leave this place before the gossiping started - though of course, they would not call it gossiping. 

Obi-Wan would write to Bant, and to Quinlan, explain to them what had happened, as well as he could, now that the truth was open to them. They would understand, or they wouldn’t; he knew what he hoped for, but he also knew how the council were likely to treat association with the three of them.

“What are we going to do?” Obi-Wan asked as they left the temple, his voice lighter than it had sounded in a long while. The meagre belongings the three of them owned consisted mainly of clothes, and fit into one bag, slung over Qui-Gon’s shoulder. “We’re going to need things, money and somewhere to live. We’re going to need  _ jobs _ ,” Obi-Wan realised out loud with mounting shock. He wasn’t sure he knew how to do anything beside jedi work, he certainly didn’t feel qualified for anything but that. 

“I’m sure Dex would give you a job if you asked. Imagine it love, you waiting tables - because force knows you can’t cook, that would be  _ my _ job - and Anakin could wash dishes,” Qui-Gon joked and a laugh bubbled out of Obi-Wan. He felt like the weight on his shoulders was easing with every step away from the temple. 

“What about my mom?” Anakin asked.

“I think she’s worked enough in her life already, don’t you?” Qui-Gon replied, and Anakin smiled and nodded quickly.

“I’m not sure Dex giving me a job would extend to the both of you as well,” Obi-Wan replied. “Besides, I think it might be nice to get away from Coruscant, go somewhere else, somewhere with more greenery, perhaps. Though, we would need money for that.”

“I have some money. I kept back a few items when freeing Shimi from Watto, sold them for credits in a spaceport instead, just in case we needed them.”

“You stole,” Obi-Wan said, trying to sound unimpressed but unable to keep the amusement from his voice. 

“I’m helping the needy, we just happen to be the needy right now. But we could, in theory, go anywhere we wanted. But you’re right, when we got there, we would have to find jobs.”

“How do we decide where to go?” Anakin asked, forging the way back to his mother, a spring in his step. 

“Point at a star?” Qui-Gon grinned. 

“A romantic notion, but most planets are not particularly idyllic places to live,” Obi-Wan replied. 

“I’m sure the answer will present itself,” Qui-Gon replied.

They spent the day collecting up things they needed to live a life, Qui-Gon having ‘reappropriated’ just enough money for them all to get the basics, and still afford transportation off world. 

It was with no small amount of trepidation that Obi-Wan went to sleep that night - he and Qui-Gon taking the floor in the main room, rather than the one bedroom this time; they had slept on far less comfortable terrain. 

“You feel tense, my love,” Qui-Gon said, he was spooned up behind Obi-Wan, his arm acting as an extra pillow, his other hand rubbing down Obi-Wan’s side. 

“I’m just worried,” Obi-Wan admitted.

“About whether or not you’ll still get the dreams?”

“Yes. What will we do?”

“We will worry about it if it happens. And then we will start by getting off this planet,” Qui-Gon suggested, and as Obi-Wan’s worry fought with his exhaustion, he didn’t have the energy to do anything other than trust Qui-Gon; a method that had not steered him wrong yet. 

When Obi-Wan woke, nearly twelve hours later, he had his head pillowed on Qui-Gon’s thigh, as the man himself busied himself with a book. He smiled down when he felt Obi-Wan stir, and Obi-Wan rubbed at the sleep in his eyes, feeling a little wrong-footed by the light streaming in through the windows. 

“What?” He grumbled, wondering if it would be poor form to go back to sleep  _ immediately _ . 

“You slept through the night,” he grinned, and Obi-Wan paused, took stock of his night, and realised that Qui-Gon was  _ right _ .

“Oh my god,” Obi-Wan breathed, before slinging his arms around Qui-Gon’s neck and climbing into his lap for an enthusiastic hug, that had the other man rumbling out a laugh. “I didn’t have a dream.”

“I know,” Qui-Gon said, holding Obi-Wan tight as he laughed with relief until Ani became seriously concerned about his mental wellbeing. 

Qui-Gon had been right, and the answer did present itself, as they ummed and ahhed about where to go - having to consider alien things, such as the cost of living, the availability of work, the prevalence of sand - and received a message from none other than the Padmé Amidala, still the Queen of Naboo. 

Apparently word had spread of their self-imposed exile, and reached even the ears of the Naboo senator on Coruscant, who had reported it to her majesty. She reminded them that they were always welcome on Naboo, that she could help them find accommodations, work, and anything else they required, for their invaluable service to her planet. 

Anakin was excited as soon as he heard the invitation, started talking his mother’s ear off about Padmé, and how she had turned out to be the Queen, but mostly he told her of the grass and the trees that covered Naboo, the lakes and rivers. 

They found passage the next day, tourism was steadily returning to Naboo as the blockade began to feel more distant, so the ships were not too infrequent. First though, Obi-Wan stopped off at Dex’s to tell him he would be leaving, that he was not sure when, if ever, he would be returning to Coruscant. Dex bemoaned it, asked him what had happened, and Obi-Wan didn’t suppress his laugh when Dex scrawled out a sign that read:  _ we reserve the right to refuse service to the Jedi High Council.  _

Dex made him promise to drop by if he ever did come back, and that he would do the same, if he ever found himself in Naboo, but they both knew it was unlikely, the many sealed containers of all Obi-Wan’s favourite dishes that were pressed into his hands, told him that he was not the only one that knew that this was likely a more final farewell. 

Naboo was more beautiful than he remembered it, no longer littered with droids and scarred with blaster fire. The place where Qui-Gon had survived, rather than the place that he had died. It was spring, on the planet, and everything seemed to be in bloom. 

The Queen greeted them personally, in all her regalia, and then joined them that evening for supper, fresh faced, as she had been on Tatooine. She extended job offers to both Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon, in her personal guard, or as advisors; whichever they preferred, smiling when they both accepted the advisory position. They would protect her were she in danger, no matter what position they held. 

The palace helped to get them settled, Qui-Gon, Obi-Wan and Shimi all tried to insist that to be simply given a property - one of them, one for Shimi and Anakin nearby, with some shared land - was too generous. Padmé had asked them what would have happened if the sith hadn’t been defeated, if Anakin hadn’t joined the battle and destroyed the control ship.

It was a beautiful bit of land, a small orchard attached to it, and it only took Shimi a few days to start a garden of vegetables alongside Qui-Gon, she wasn’t used to such greenery, but she thrived in it, and all things grew well around Qui-Gon; Obi-Wan had no doubt Anakin would as well. 

He had never imagined he would own a house. It had a little wooden door that Qui-Gon had to duck slightly to get through, dappled on every sunny day with the light that peeked through the trellises and the vines growing on them. There was a little garden at the front, full of flowers that bloomed in bold colours, surrounded by a low fence, just up to Obi-Wan’s waist, a small gate set into it. 

The house was two storeys but small, stone on the outside - where it could be seen through the ivy and crawling planets - but wooden and warm on the inside, a hearth that glowed bright in the evenings, holo-pictures quickly appearing to litter the mantlepiece. The rooms were cosy, the furniture just long enough for Qui-Gon to stretch out on, except the bed which swamped the small bedroom. 

The back garden was larger, a verdant green with a corner that was tucked away from the world with high grown bushes and a small pond. They meditated there when the mood took them, practiced old katas and combined them with the yogas of the world. Qui-Gon found koi for the pond, and one day came home with a stray at his heel. 

“I’ve been thinking,” Qui-Gon said one evening, curled together reading in front of their fire. Anakin had turned eleven, and had his first real birthday party, he had smiled wide and brimmed with the light. 

“Oh? Never a good sign,” Obi-Wan teased. Finishing his page and setting down the novel he was reading. 

“Imp,” Qui-Gon chided, swatting Obi-Wan’s thigh. He had grown a beard, and his hair was brushing his shoulders now. 

“I’m sorry my love, what have you been thinking about?”

“Local customs that recur from planet to planet. Ones that we never thought on much as jedi, but which I find myself increasingly preoccupied with these days.”

“What customs?” Obi-Wan asked, curious and propping his hand on his chin against Qui-Gon’s chest, cuddled together as they were. He had lost the dark circles around his eyes, put on the weight he had lost during his sleepless year, and Qui-Gon often kissed his stomach now, pleased that he could no longer see ribs. 

“I want to marry you,” Qui-Gon said, running a finger over Obi-Wan's cheek, catching his lip as he broke out in a beaming smile. 

“Really?”

“More than anything.”

“Yes. Please,” Obi-Wan said, breathlessly and only growing more so as Qui-Gon swept him up in a kiss, deep and relieved, as if he had really thought Obi-Wan might say no. 

The kiss deepened, Obi-Wan feeling as though he was being devoured, still so overwhelmed by Qui-Gon, every feeling between them - emotional and physical - heightened by the blazing strength of their bond, creating a feedback loop that made him feel like he felt everything they did together twice. Qui-Gon’s tongue pressed into his mouth and Obi-Wan yielded easily, letting his lover fuck into his mouth, suck at his tongue and nip on his lips as he saw fit, for as long as he wanted. 

“I can’t do this with an audience,” Obi-Wan laughed as Qui-Gon’s hands snaked under his pants and squeezed his ass, cock growing hard in his underwear at just that simple touch. 

“What? Oh,” Qui-Gon frowned, noticing the Tova watching them intently, her tail wagging. “Okay, I’ll put her to bed for the night and come find you in the bed. But you had better not start without me.”

“That would depend on how long you take,” Obi-Wan teased, letting his cardigan drop to the floor as he went up the creaky staircase. 

Qui-Gon joined him only a few minutes later, but it was long enough for Obi-Wan to have lost the rest of his clothes and slicked up his fingers, pressing one inside himself and moaning at the feeling. 

“I told you to wait,” Qui-Gon growled, that possessive sound that they both liked, that sent a thrill down Obi-Wan’s spine that he had never been able to deny because of their bond. 

“I never took orders from you,” Obi-Wan cheeked, sighing as he pushed his finger deeper, his cock hard against his stomach.

“Now, we both know that’s not true,” Qui-Gon purred, pulling off his shirt, his trousers tented obscenely, his words making Obi-Wan blush. Obi-Wan watched, biting at his lip, fingers still in distraction, as Qui-Gon stripped off the rest of his clothes, his large cock hard and heavy between his legs. He smirked, when Obi-Wan reactively opened his legs a little more, slipped his finger free and reached out to Qui-Gon with both hands. “I thought you were doing fine on your own.”

“Could be doing better, though,” Obi-Wan replied, humming happily when Qui-Gon settled between his legs and kissed him once, twice, three times, on his lips. 

“Oh? How so?”

“It could be you touching me, instead of myself,” Obi-Wan said, combing a hand through Qui-Gon’s long hair as he reached for the slick. “You know I prefer your hands.”

“And why’s that?” Qui-Gon asked, slicking his fingers and dropping his hand down, teasing around Obi-Wan’s rim with his index finger. 

“Because your hands are as ridiculously large as the rest of you. And you know exactly how to touch me.”

“Like this?” Qui-Gon asked, pressing one thick finger inside Obi-Wan’s hole, deep to the last knuckle in one steady push.

“Ah, yes. Please Qui, more,” Obi-Wan whined, the needy noises already falling past his lips as Qui-Gon began to stretch him, fucking his finger in and out of Obi-Wan’s hole with wet noises, until he could press in with another, and then another. 

On three fingers Obi-Wan was stretched wide, body both relaxed with desire and Qui-Gon’s ministrations, and tight with need, but he knew he needed a fourth to be able to take Qui-Gon’s fat cock without hurting, and Qui-Gon teased him with it, stretching him out on all four slowly, grazing over his prostate in an agonisingly slow drag, until Obi-Wan’s back was arched, and he felt like a live wire. 

“Are you ready, love?” Qui-Gon murmured as he began to work his four fingers inside Obi-Wan’s wet hole, his muscles used to this by now, and opening for him easily under his ministrations. 

“Yes,” Obi-Wan replied, greedily accepting the long kiss Qui-Gon pressed to his lips, as he pulled his fingers from Obi-Wan and pressed the fat head of his cock against his hole instead. 

Qui-Gon pressed inside without leaving Obi-Wan’s lips, swallowing Obi-Wan’s moans as he sunk deeper and deeper, stretching him to the limit every time, Obi-Wan’s hands sunk in Qui-Gon’s hair desperately by the time he was fully seated. He stilled, giving Obi-Wan time to adjust to his girth as he always did, Obi-Wan completely encompassed by his lover, distracted from the burn by the demanding kiss and the way Qui-Gon was thumbing at one of his nipples. 

“Please move,” Obi-Wan whined into their kiss, knowing that Qui-Gon would hold himself back until Obi-Wan told him he was ready. 

Qui-Gon kissed him one more before leaning back, holding Obi-Wan behind his knees and starting to roll his hips in slow, deep thrusts that dragged moans out of Obi-Wan’s throat. 

“Faster, please,” Obi-Wan begged, in love with the rumble of Qui-Gon’s laugh, and the way he immediately sped his thrusts, fucking Obi-Wan harder, splitting him open on his thick cock with every movement.

He hooked one of Obi-Wan’s legs over his shoulder, opening him wider and forcing the angle to change, making his cock stroke against Obi-Wan’s sweet spot as he fucked him, all that yoga in the garden enabling Qui-Gon to all but bend Obi-Wan in half so that he could still find his lips with his own. 

“I love you,” Qui-Gon breathed into their kisses, and Obi-Wan felt his cock jump at the words, saying them back in a desperate litany as Qui-Gon fucked him hard enough to shift him up the bed, until he was forced to brace one hand against the headboard to avoid hitting it. 

The extra leverage let him push himself back down against Qui, getting him deeper and harder, eyes rolling as Qui-Gon’s fingers dug into the meat of his thigh, the one he was still holding open, instead of slung over his shoulder. He was grunting out praise with every thrust, the kind that made Obi-Wan dizzy with arousal, had his cock pooling precome on his stomach.

“Are you going to come on my cock, just my cock?” Qui-Gon murmured, voice gravelling and breathing heavily as Qui-Gon’s ass gripped him, taking all of his cock as it fucked deep. 

“Y-yes,” Obi-Wan moaned, the hand that wasn't braced against the headboard wrapped around Qui-Gon back instinctually as Qui-Gon crowded close to him again, one leg played obscenely wide, the other still hooked over his shoulder, stretching himself wide for Qui-Gon’s cock. His nails dragged along Qui-Gon’s skin, no doubt leaving red marks in their wake and making his lover growl, fuck him even harder. 

“That’s right. You’re so good, Obi-Wan, so perfect,” Qui-Gon purred, and Obi-Wan was lost, gasping Qui-Gon’s name as his ass tightened and his cock jerked untouched and striped his own stomach with white ropes of come, his eyes rolling at the force of his orgasm. 

Qui-Gon growled, redoubling his efforts and fucking into Obi-Wan’s body, shivering with the aftershocks of his climax. Qui-Gon’s thrust became erratic as Obi-Wan pulsed around his cock, managing only a dozen more thrusts into Obi-Wan’s heat before he stilled and came with a groan, filling Obi-Wan up with his release. 

Qui-Gon fucked Obi-Wan gently through the waves of his orgasm, his movements growing slow and lazy as they both came down and started to soften. He checked Obi-Wan carefully after he gently pulled out, and then cleaned him up in a way that always simultaneously embarrassed Obi-Wan, and made him feel inexplicably safe and warm. 

They fell asleep together easily, it had been over a year since Obi-Wan had feared closing his eyes, and he had his four-hundred-and-fourteenth restful night of sleep in a row. In the morning Qui-Gon kissed him awake, and they shared a dreadfully indulgent morning in bed, letting Tova come up and join them, curling up happily on their feet. 

“I think we should send a wedding invite to the council,” Qui-Gon said out of the blue, making Obi-Wan burst into laughter until the sound was kissed straight from his lips. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahh to everyone who got this far, ily, its been wonderful to have you along for the ride, i hope you enjoyed this very soppy and indulgent ending <3


End file.
